


Wonderwall

by liknow



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barista Lee Minho | Lee Know, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, I'm so sorry for this mess, Jealousy, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Minor Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Minor Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Minor Kim Seungmin/Seo Changbin, Misunderstandings, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Please Forgive me, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Top Han Jisung | Han, i used the word fuck 232 times in this, i wrote it in one week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liknow/pseuds/liknow
Summary: There are many things that Iwould like to say to you,but I don't know how.(Because maybeyou're gonna be the onethat saves me.)or: After months of confining their ambiguous relationship within the walls of a café, Jisung and Minho hesitantly step outside and discover just how natural it feels to heal each other.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 139
Kudos: 478
Collections: Be Kind: Rewind! | SKZ 90s Fic Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo!
> 
> Here's my submission for the **Be Kind: Rewind! SKZ 90s Fic Fest**. My chosen song is (obviously) [_Wonderwall_ by Oasis](https://youtu.be/bx1Bh8ZvH84). The event twitter is right [here](https://twitter.com/esskayzed90s) so please check it out as well as all the other fics!!!
> 
> I... never thought I'd write a fic over 10k, but here we are. In advance, I'd like to blame the lack of plot development and characterization on the fact that I whipped this up in one week and have no idea how to write anything besides pwp.
> 
> **CW** : Referenced cheating, past toxic relationships, explicit sexual content, alcohol/drinking, and extreme overuse of the word "fuck."
> 
> ♫ Gay little [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6xT8sNw6pC5TgYhtRXa3jo?si=VXyj7ndVQPqCHZ9368TLXA) I made

It was getting late.

Jisung had been in the coffee shop for hours—too many to count. He sipped at the last drops of his iced latte and sat back with a tired groan, eyes scanning over the notes in front of him and pointedly ignoring what he hoped was a coffee stain and not his own tears.

He had planned to work on the _god-awful_ dissertation for his music history course, which he'd had the intent of finishing weeks ago, but he tended to get a little distracted. 

Especially when he was here.

"Jisungie," called a sweet voice, spanning across the cafe. "Do you want a refill?"

Jisung's head snapped up with renewed energy. Before his brain could process the question, his body answered for him and sent him flying out of his seat, ignoring the awkwardly loud clatter the piece of furniture made and dashing toward the counter, then pausing once he saw Minho's amused grin.

"What?" he asked when the barista started to giggle.

"You forgot your cup."

Jisung's eyes widened in realization.

" _Shit_ ," he whispered, turning to dart back to his small table, but Minho stopped him with a hand reaching over the counter and wrapping around his arm.

"Stay, I'll just get you a new cup."

Jisung startled at the touch, then turned back with a cocky smile on his lips.

"Oh, you wanted to see me that bad?"

Minho glared, but Jisung could see a shade of pink dusting his cheeks just before he grabbed a fresh cup and disappeared behind the coffee-making machinery that Jisung didn't understand in the slightest.

"Says the one who nearly fell on his ass running over here."

Jisung opened his mouth in retort but came up with nothing.

 _Touché_.

Minho was strangely special to him. It had been something over a half a year since they'd first met, since Jisung's first day of the fall semester and Minho's first day of his barista position at the off-campus coffee shop. Minho had smiled at him and asked if he wanted a sample and Jisung had spaced out so hard taking in the sight of the pretty new staff member, he'd missed the question completely and ended up flushing in embarrassment at the sound of Minho's sweet giggle.

It didn't take long for him to fall head over heels.

He'd started off visiting the coffee shop every day because it was a decent place for him to chug down unhealthy amounts of caffeine and force himself to be productive, until at some point, the productivity became less of a priority and more of a distant goal.

Now, he drove the extra mile to the café just to see a certain face.

Minho was close to perfect; he was _unreal_. Somewhere between devilishly sarcastic and angelically kind, he was one of Jisung's favorite people to talk to. To be fair, Jisung didn't talk to a whole lot of people in the first place—or at least, not since an awful summer break-up that he would’ve liked to forget about entirely.

It was hard, though, to forget. 

He was completely over the piece of shit, but it was still hard because the guy his ex-boyfriend had cheated on him with had become one of Minho's new _co-workers_ after the spring break.

"Where's Hyunjin?" Jisung murmured, not even bothering to hide the way he ogled Minho while the elder worked on his drink. The lattes took about three times as long to prepare as his preferred iced americano, according to Jisung’s calculations, and that was the sole reason he ordered them.

He enjoyed seeing Minho so much, it was pathetic.

" _Where's Hyunjin?_ " Minho mimicked, shooting Jisung a playful glare. "Why are you always asking about Hyunjin these days? Aren't I your favorite?" He paused just to pout in Jisung's direction. "Are you _cheating_ on me, Jisungie?"

Jisung almost choked on his spit at the horrible irony.

"Oh, god,” he groaned, head tipping back with a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing. Get back to my latte."

"Rude. Bet you don't treat Hyunjin like this."

Jisung only snickered. Oh, _Hyunjin_.

Despite what one would assume, he had absolutely no grudge against the new barista. Sure, the first few encounters at the café were incredibly awkward for both of them, seeing that they hadn't seen each other since the day Jisung had walked in on his ex-boyfriend balls deep in the other boy, but they were starting to warm up to each other.

Jisung wanted to hate Hyunjin, he’d wanted to for a long time, but he just couldn't bring himself to. Not when the slightly older boy had cried after Jisung caught the two, having had no idea that Jisung's ex was even _dating_ anyone.

(And especially not when he always made a point of letting Minho take over the cash register when Jisung went up to order. Honestly, that was something all of Minho's co-workers did, but Jisung appreciated the gesture nonetheless.)

That summer's events had left Jisung a little more than hesitant in his efforts to grow close to other people. Even he and Minho had yet to see each other outside of the coffee shop. _Yet_.

Jisung was okay with that. He very much enjoyed staying up late talking to the elder as he mopped the floors of the café after the rest of its customers trickled out. The place didn't close until _two in the morning_ on weekends, which royally fucked up Jisung's sleeping schedule at times, but he deemed that a worthy sacrifice.

"Here you go," Minho murmured, placing down the drink next to the cash register instead of handing it to Jisung. They both knew it would be several minutes before Jisung returned to his seat.

"Thanks," Jisung said, catching Minho's hand in his just as soon as the elder put down the cup. Minho peered at him across the counter with curious eyes.

Jisung had been trying his luck a lot more often lately, and today he was feeling _particularly_ lucky.

"Can I help you?" Minho teased, lower lip between his teeth.

"Can't I hold your hand without an excuse?"

Jisung grinned at the eye roll he received. 

"I _know_ you want to say something to me," Minho pressed, swinging their connected hands. "What is it? Back with another bad pick-up line?"

Jisung gaped at him in offense, face heating up. "They're not bad!"

Minho raised his eyebrows.

"Don't even _try_ to tell me you don't like them," the younger grumbled. "Why else would you keep giving me free refills?"

Minho sighed in defeat.

"Knew it." Jisung squeezed his hand, then shyly looked down. "You know, you've been giving me an awful lot of free refills lately."

"Have I?"

Jisung met his gaze again, nearly forgetting what he wanted to say at the mere sight of Minho blinking back at him innocently.

"You _have_ ," he continued. "And I just can't help but think: How ever will I repay you?"

Minho spluttered for a moment, ears turning red.

"You don't have to repay me!" he choked out, clearly embarrassed. "It's a fair exchange. Great pick-up lines for free refills."

"Oh, so they're _great_ , now?" Jisung couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face, nor the bold words that left his mouth next. "So how come they haven't worked yet, hmm?"

Minho's eyes widened. And then slowly, he withdrew his hand from Jisung's grip.

Jisung's stomach dropped to the floor.

 _Shit_. Maybe he’d read his luck wrong.

They had been flirting, _actually_ flirting, for a few months now, Jisung guessed. When they had first met, Minho was dating a piece of trash, former frat boy who made Jisung's blood boil. It had been more than obvious how unhappy Minho was in the relationship, but he'd always brush off Jisung's concerns with an _Oh, don't worry about me. We've been together for ages; he's always like this._

That never reassured Jisung. Whenever the guy showed up at the café, he would leave beautiful, bubbly Minho looking dampened and dejected. And _god_ , Jisung had wanted to kill him with his bare hands the day Minho told him he finally dumped the fucker after a horrible fight and a string of insults that Jisung didn't want to remember, much less repeat.

But that relationship was over, and it had been for quite a while. In the meantime, Minho was looking much brighter, and he'd steadily began to reciprocate Jisung’s horrid attempts at flirting. Or at least, that's what Jisung had thought was happening.

Maybe his pick-up lines _were_ bad.

He stared at Minho in horror, searching his brain for words after the elder’s warm hand was gone.

"Oh, um," Minho mumbled, averting his eyes. His cheeks were somehow a darker shade of red than they had been before. "Listen, Jisung, I—"

"Shit, I'm sorry," Jisung cut him off, resisting the urge to make a run for it. "I didn't mean to overstep. I guess I just thought—"

" _No_." Minho lifted his head to meet Jisung’s gaze again, eyes still wide but seemingly in a different manner now. "No, it's not like that. I wanna go out with you sometime, I really do."

"Oh," Jisung breathed. He tried not to smile— _really_ tried—because there was clearly something going on that wasn't worth smiling over.

But _fuck_ , those few words were everything.

"I'm kind of..." Minho kept talking, but he was looking down at the counter again. "This is embarrassing, but I'm kind of, like, caught up in that messy break-up right now. You know the one."

Jisung's stomach dropped to _hell_.

"Wait," he whispered. "Wait—You mean, you're still—"

"I'm not," Minho rushed, voice dropping down to a whisper. "We've been, you know, _done_ for a while. It's just that we're still living together right now, which complicates things, and I don't really want to drag anyone—especially _you_ —into that."

"You're..." Jisung blinked a few times, unable to process the new information. He'd been under the impression that Minho was long free from the ex-fratboy trash—Minho hadn't mentioned anything about him since their break-up, after all, and he’d never thought to ask. "You're _living_ with that douche?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Minho tried to assure. He looked up and took Jisung's hand again. "He's been staying with friends for the most part, and he's _finally_ found a place for himself, since my name is on the lease and all. But he still hasn't started packing his stuff yet—"

"Tell him to pack his shit." Jisung cut him off, eyes still wide with shock. The idea of Minho living with that evil creature—Okay, to be fair, Jisung didn't know much about him, but _still_ —had his blood boiling. "Want me to do it?"

"No, no." Minho reassured Jisung with a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes. "I'm not going to drag you into this, Jisung. And anyway— _Fuck_."

Jisung flinched at the sudden cussing, then watched Minho's eyes fix on something—or _someone_ —behind him.

"The fuck are you still doing here?" rang out a dreadful voice, one that Jisung had graciously forgotten.

He turned his head to face its source and gritted his teeth.

Fucking hell, it was _him_. About thirty seconds ago, he hadn't even known this piece of shit was still involved in Minho's life, and now he was _standing in front of him?_

"It's only ten," Minho mumbled.

"Yeah, so why the fuck are you in here? I've been waiting outside for ten fucking minutes."

Jisung's hand started to tremble in Minho's grip. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but the mere _tone_ of that guy's voice as he spoke to Minho made him want to wrap his hands around his throat. Minho squeezed his fingers gently, as if trying to calm his violent thoughts.

"I get out at eleven today," he said evenly, clearly trying to keep his cool. He gave Jisung an apologetic glance, neck flushed—though not in the way Jisung would've liked to see.

It was then that the douchebag seemingly became aware of Jisung's presence. He raised his eyebrows at their connected hands and threw Minho a vicious glare.

"I _knew_ you were sleeping around," he sneered. Jisung gawked at him, ripping his hand out of Minho's grip so he could face the guy fully.

"You have _no right_ —" he started to growl, but he was cut off by Minho's sweet voice.

"So what if I am?"

Jisung's body tensed in disbelief.

Did Minho just... tell his ex that they were _fucking?_

When he slowly turned back to Minho, eyes blinking at the speed of light, he was met with a nervous gaze and rosy red cheeks.

"Go back to your table, Jisung. You have shit to do,” he said gently. “We'll talk later."

Jisung wanted to argue with him, wanted to pummel the shit out of this guy, honestly, but the pleading look in Minho’s eyes had him exhaling in defeat and sending the monstrous creature lasers before shuffling back to his table, all of his limbs suddenly cement-heavy.

He _did_ have work to do, but there was no way in hell he going to go back to his stupid unfinished dissertation when Minho was across the room being undeservingly threatened by the trash Jisung thought he had disposed of _months_ ago.

He was learning a lot about his favorite barista today.

For what seemed like hours, he watched the two argue from across the coffee shop. He couldn't make out any of their words, which he was partially grateful for, but he still vibrated in his seat just _witnessing_ it. Why hadn't that guy left yet? Had he not heard Minho? Did he not have his entire work schedule memorized?

Why the hell was he even here to _begin_ with?

Jisung wasn't stupid—or at least, he wasn't _too_ stupid. He knew he and Minho weren't insanely close or anything. They knew each other relatively well from every day Jisung had spent pining after him in the café, which was a _lot_ of days, and Minho had started to open up to him a lot more since his break-up, started to lessen the amount of pining Jisung had to do.

But at the end of the day, he didn't _actually_ know Minho outside of the café yet. And suddenly, though it hadn't upset him before, that thought was _really_ bothering him.

He was so zoned out, preoccupied thinking about the hundreds of ways he could shut Minho's bastard ex-boyfriend up—plus the thousands of ways he could bring the soft blush back to Minho’s face—that he hardly registered the sound of a cup hitting the ground and liquid splattering across the floor.

"What the _fuck?_ " he heard Minho seethe, and instantly he was on his feet, eyes growing wide at the sight of the refilled latte he had forgotten to grab pooling on the hardwood floor by the counter. Before he could run over and strangle the life out of the culprit, the asshole was shoving the door open to leave, the little bell at the entrance giving an unsettling rattle.

"Minho," Jisung whispered, body practically stinging in alarm. He rushed back over, trying to make eye contact, but the elder had his forehead pressed to the counter, hands gripping his own hair like he was trying not to lose his shit.

Finally, he lifted his head, cheeks puffing as he let out a deep breath, hands ruffling his hair so it was back in place.

"Sorry everyone," he called out to the few customers who were still in their seats, nosily watching the events unfold. His voice was back to its usual sweetness, but that didn't fool Jisung.

"Minho, let me go beat his ass," Jisung pleaded, watching, helpless, as Minho hastily grabbed a mop. " _Please_ , let me disassemble his limbs—"

" _No_ ," Minho said sternly, but his voice had a shake to it.

"But he—"

"I don't want you to leave."

Jisung shut his mouth, then slowly released the tension in his body. He wouldn't argue with that, not ever.

"Okay, I won’t." He watched Minho cautiously make his way around the counter, mop in hand. "But are you okay? Did he—Are you hurt?" Minho's hands trembled slightly where they gripped the handle of the mop, and Jisung desperately wanted to snatch it from him and clean the damn floor himself.

"No, nothing like that," Minho mumbled, sighing as he began to take care of the mess. "I'm not hurt; I'm just..." He shrugged.

"He's a fucking ass, Minho." Jisung leaned against the counter next to where the spill was as Minho kept cleaning. "I'm sorry, I really thought he was out of your life."

"Sorry," Minho said, eyes fixed on the mostly-clean floor. "I should've told you. I just don't like talking about him. Or thinking about him."

"You're not obligated to tell me anything. But still, I wish I knew before I indirectly asked you out a hundred times. And kind of directly one time. I feel bad."

"You shouldn't feel bad," Minho huffed. "Trust me, I stopped caring about that piece of shit forever ago." He then lifted his eyes and scanned the area to make sure nobody had heard him swear again before locking eyes with Jisung. "But like I said, I don't want to get you involved. I don't wanna scare you off." His lips turned up playfully. "I'd be kind of sad if you stopped showing up with your bad pick-up lines."

Jisung was caught between blushing like a schoolgirl and grinning like an asshole. He did a little bit of both. "I _told_ you that you loved them," he said, "but you don't have to worry about scaring me off. If anyone's getting scared off, it's your trash boyfriend."

" _Ex-_ boyfriend," Minho corrected with a glare. He finally passed Jisung, bumping their shoulders flirtatiously as he made his way behind the counter again and stowed the mop. "Let me remake your poor latte."

"No, don't worry about it." Jisung frowned. Minho was still shaking, looking like he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball at the moment. Jisung had to do something to help, _anything_. "When do you get off?"

"Like, an hour?"

"Okay, give me your apron." Before Minho could argue, Jisung walked around to stand behind the counter, eyes scanning the various café machinery that, again, he had _no_ fucking clue how to work.

But he’d figure it out for Minho.

Minho’s eyes widened in alarm. "Wha— _Jisung!_ " He tried to push the younger out of the staff-only area. "You're not allowed back here, dumbass!"

"I don't care. Gimme."

Minho gave him an incredulous look, but soon started laughing in spite of himself when Jisung's hands went to his waist to try and untie the red apron all of the baristas wore. He squirmed around, shoving at Jisung's chest again. "What do you think you're doing?" 

"I'm taking over. You need a break."

"That's literally _illegal_ ," Minho hissed, but his eyes were about a million times brighter than they had been when that douche was at the counter. 

"What the hell is he doing back here?" 

Jisung turned and offered a wave to his favorite of Minho's co-workers, Jeongin, who was emerging from the storage room.

"I'm your new employee. Minho needs a break," he replied, easily fighting against Minho, who was still attempting to push him out of the area. "But he won't give me his apron."

"Take Hyunjin's, it's right there." Jeongin pointed to a rack on the wall, rolling his eyes amusedly despite having no actual context.

" _Jeongin!_ " Minho whipped around to face his co-worker. He watched in helplessly as Jisung reached for the apron, slipped it over his head, and tied the back in a lousy bow. "What the hell? We can't just let him back here!"

Jeongin shrugged. "Apparently, you're on break."

"Make him a chai tea," Jisung ordered the youngest.

"Who left you in charge?"

"I'm your new manager."

Minho let out a distressed sigh while the two bickered, hands covering his face. "Jisung, if you get banned from coming back here, I'll—"

"How can I help you?" Jisung cut him off, turning to face someone who had just arrived at the counter. He heard Minho let out a strangled noise from behind him and bit back a smile.

"Latte refill, please," the person replied, handing Jisung their cup, seemingly having no idea that he'd been sitting at one of the café's tables as a _customer_ not even five minutes prior.

"Coming right up." He flashed his most charming smile, then turned to Jeongin with panicked eyes.

"How much is a latte refill?" he whisper-shouted.

"Don't you get those, like, every day?" Jeongin asked, narrowing his eyes as he took the cup from Jisung's hand.

"Yeah, but I don't pay for them," he snickered, watching Minho turn his back to them and groan in embarrassment.

"Of course you don't," Jeongin muttered. "Fucking gay people."

"Like you don't make out with Hyunjin in the storage room every other day," Minho snapped.

"Can someone _please_ tell me how much a refill is?" Jisung pressed.

"Ninety-nine cents," Jeongin finally answered. Jisung quietly whispered his gratitude and turned back to the customer.

"That'll be ninety-nine cents."

Somehow, he managed to work the cash register—he'd had his fair share of cashier jobs in the past, so it wasn't too daunting—and sighed in sweet relief once Jeongin handed off the latte.

He turned back to Minho to brag of his victory, biting his lip in amusement at the glare he was sent. "What's wrong?"

"You're _insane_ ," Minho whined, stepping forward to shove at Jisung’s chest again so he was backed against the counter now.

" _Please_ go to the storage room if you're gonna do that," Jeongin called from beside them, throwing them a disgusted look as he handed Minho his chai tea.

"We're not _doing_ anything," Jisung argued, embarrassed as though he'd been caught with his tongue down Minho's throat. He reached out and squeezed Minho's shoulder. "You should go sit down. Maybe you can finish my dissertation for me."

"Oh, and leave you to burn down the place?" Minho raised an eyebrow. "Also, weren't you working on that weeks ago?"

"I get distracted easily," Jisung said defensively.

"Wonder why," Jeongin butted in. The two ignored him.

"Are you okay, though?" Jisung murmured, giving Jeongin a grateful smile when he moved over to the case of bakery goods to give them privacy. "Was it—Is it my fault he got mad?"

Minho shook his head with a scoff, then took both of Jisung's hands in his. Jisung's head _spun_ —they _did_ spend a considerable amount of time hanging out whenever Minho was closing up the café, but they hadn’t grown all that touchy until recently, despite how long Jisung had wanted to jump over the counter and kiss the barista senseless (even before his break-up, though he’d deny that fact). 

"No, don't worry," the elder grumbled. "He was mad anyway. Dumbass thought my shift ended at ten."

"Why was he coming to pick you up?" Jisung hated how nosy he sounded, but really, the thought of a person like Minho being stuck with a person like _that_ made his skin crawl. “Does he _usually?”_

"No, but I asked him to today," Minho said. "I don't drive, and it's supposed to rain or some shit. Normally, I'd walk or ask someone here to drive me, but Jeongin's staying till closing."

"I'll drive you," Jisung blurted. "I mean, if that's okay— _No_ , actually, I don't care what you say. I'm not letting you walk in the rain."

"Thanks," Minho whispered, a small smile on his lips. "You do kind of owe me for all the refills."

"I thought my great pick-up lines paid off?"

"I was lying. You suck at them."

"Oh, do they? Wanna know what else I suck at?" Jisung asked, grinning wide and cackling when Minho tried to push him out of the staff area again.

"You're _vile_ ," he replied between giggles, but he continued to hold onto Jisung's hands. After their laughter subsided, he averted Jisung's gaze and bit the inside of his cheek. "Oh, by the way..."

"What is it?" Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, not liking the sudden drop in mood.

"Sorry that I sort of implied that we're fucking earlier," Minho said, shyly meeting Jisung's eyes again. "You know, when _he_ was here. I don't know why I did it, I just—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Jisung squeezed his hands, the smile returning to his face. "I'm _flattered_ , Minho."

"Shut up," the elder breathed, and Jisung _really_ wanted to kiss his pink cheeks, but like always, he restrained himself.

Eventually, with a lot of coaxing and a little threatening, he convinced Minho to go take his spot at the table, handing him a pair of headphones and telling him he could go through the unfinished songs he had been sorting through for his end-of-year portfolio.

Of course, he happened to forget completely about the track he'd once made inspired by a certain barista.

When Minho called him over to the table just after he'd successfully helped another customer, Jisung figured he was going to compliment one of his tracks, try to boost his ego or something, but the moment he arrived and saw the crimson on Minho's cheeks, he became wary.

"What? You hate them?" he joked, though his nerves were increasing at the look on the elder’s face.

"No, I love them," Minho said softly. "I was just wondering why there's one called _barista track_."

Jisung felt his lungs malfunction.

"... _Oh_."

He desperately glanced back toward the counter, hoping there would magically be a customer to drag him out of this situation.

 _Barista track_ wasn't supposed to exist. Jisung had created late one night, tipsy and alone in his large apartment. That day, he and Minho had finally exchanged numbers, and Minho's adorable cat pictures and overuse of lovey emoticons had him, well, _feeling_ things. Funnily enough, he didn't even plan on using the track in his portfolio. He was too afraid to come up with lyrics for it, and even more afraid of writing an explanation of what influenced the song.

But he didn't delete it, for whatever reason, despite cringing and curling in on himself when he had listened to it the morning after it was produced, then proceeding to never touch the file again.

Fuck. Right now, he _really_ wished he'd deleted it.

"Earth to Jisung."

Jisung snapped back to reality, swallowing hard. "Uh," he said, wracking his brain for an excuse. "It's..."

Minho raised his eyebrows as he waited.

"It's... about Hyunjin?" Jisung tried.

"What's about me?"

Jisung practically flew off the ground at the sudden voice, twisting his body to face a confused Hyunjin who'd just so happened to enter the coffee shop with impeccable timing, and _fuck_ , he'd never thought he would be so happy to see the person his ex-boyfriend slept with.

"I wrote a song about you," Jisung blurted, simply desperate to avoid the horribly awkward conversation he was about to have with Minho. Thankfully, he didn't give a shit about being awkward with Hyunjin; it wasn't as if they could get any _worse_. "I'm professing my love. Will you marry me?"

"Excuse me?" Minho choked out.

"Oh, wow." Hyunjin looked curiously between the shocked Minho and the completely humiliated Jisung, a grin breaking out on his face as he seemingly started to guess at what was happening. "I mean, it's a bit sudden. But sure, I guess."

"Excuse me?" came Jeongin's voice from across the café.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Minho whispered.

Hyunjin squinted, suddenly. "Why is Jisung wearing an— _Huh?_ Is that _my_ apron?"

"It's a long story," Jisung rushed, letting out a nervous laugh as he practically tore the apron from his body and tossed it at Hyunjin. "You can take it from here. It's late, anyway. I gotta go."

"Hey, you're supposed to be my ride," Minho whined. Jisung turned to him, panicked. _Shit_. Right.

Minho was supposed to be going _in his car_.

"Uh, you can walk," Jisung joked, then instantly regretted it when Minho's face fell. "Shit, I'm kidding!” Minho narrowed his eyes and pouted, sending Jisung’s heart spiraling. "Don't pout at me, baby, I'll drive you."

He was ready to tape his own mouth shut by that point. Baby? _Baby?_

"I call everyone that," he rushed before Minho could react. He wasn't actually lying, but still, he only really called Minho cheesy petnames like that when he was spouting one of his fantastic pick-up lines. He quickly turned back to Hyunjin, who was still frozen in confusion. "Right, baby?"

Hyunjin slowly blinked. "Please leave me out of this," he mumbled, then pulled on his apron and headed over to the counter.

If looks could kill, Hyunjin would be on the ground.

"You're evil!" Jisung cried, ignoring the stares he was getting from the few customers still gathered at the shop. "After all you've put me through, baby?"

Hyunjin stared at him from behind the counter, mouth falling open in blatant shock. Jisung hadn’t once mentioned the events of the previous summer any of the times he'd seen Hyunjin at the coffee shop—which just further proved how desperate he was at the moment.

"Uh, kidding!"

"What the _fuck_ is happening?" Minho cried, completely unknowing of Jisung’s history with his co-worker. Jisung planned to keep it that way.

"Nothing, nothing." He waved the elder off, grabbed his laptop, and hastily began to pack up his bag. "Wanna go get your stuff and clock out? Is it eleven yet? We should get you home—"

"Jisung, wait." Minho's voice was suddenly so timid, Jisung couldn't help but stop in his tracks and lock eyes with the elder, despite how flustered he was.

"What?" Jisung didn't hesitate to reach for his hand. “What is it?”

"It's just, um.” Minho pursed his lips in thought, then quietly continued, "I swear I'm not gonna mention your song again. It's just... I kind of don't wanna go back home yet. You know, cause..."

Oh. _Fuck_.

"Right," Jisung whispered, dropping down into a crouch and rubbing his free hand across his temple. "Yeah, no, I don't want you to be with that asshole right now. Or ever."

Minho gave him an unconvincing laugh. "It's fine. He’s moving out soon, _finally_. And it's not like—He wouldn't do anything to _actually_ hurt me. We just fight a whole fucking lot. It’s getting exhausting."

"I'm sorry," Jisung murmured. "Do you want me to keep you company? We can go somewhere, if you’d like? Or just drive around?”

Minho’s eyes lit up. “Really?” he whispered, but the light quickly faded. He smiled meekly and broke their eye contact. “I mean, I figured we’d just hang out here until closing. You don’t have to take me anywhere, Jisung.”

Jisung frowned. “No, I wanna. Unless... you’d rather stay here?”

Minho shrugged. Shyness was practically _radiating_ off him, and normally Jisung would’ve found it cute, but the fact that Minho thought he didn’t deserve to spend time with him made his heart ache.

“I wanna take you out,” he said as he stood to his feet, then cringed at his own words. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that; I know you said—”

Minho cut him off with a giggle. “I know, I know,” he reassured. His eyes sparkled a little as he grinned over at Jisung. “...But I really wouldn’t mind if you did.” Before Jisung could drop dead at the words, the elder continued. “Seriously, though. You don’t need to take me anywhere special. I’d feel bad.”

Jisung pouted at him. “What, you think I’m gonna kidnap you?”

“As if,” Minho scoffed. He finally stood from the seat and stretched cutely, and Jisung wanted to wrap his arms around his waist _so_ badly it hurt. “Anyway, it’s up to you.”

Jisung sighed, shaking his head in mock annoyance. “Let’s go.” Then, in a moment of bravery accompanied by the unfaltering desire to touch Minho again, he stepped closer and looped his arms around his waist to untie his apron.

"What are you— _Oh_. Thanks."

Jisung watched his ears turn red and withheld a smirk.

"What did you think I was doing?" he teased.

"Fuck off. Don't make me bring up the song again."

Jisung briefly froze up but soon snapped out of it and grabbed Minho by the waist, laughing evilly as he lifted him off the ground.

" _Jisung!"_ Minho nearly screamed, arms linking behind Jisung's neck. "Put me down, asshole!"

Jisung swore he heard a _Fucking gay people_ from across the café, but he couldn’t care less about PDA at the moment. Only after Minho’s excessive whining and kicking around, he relented and placed him back on his feet, but he indulged in holding Minho's waist for a little longer.

“You’re nuts. Maybe you _will_ kidnap me.”

"Don't try me, babe, I'll toss you across the room."

Minho's face turned cherry red, but he somehow managed to bite back, " _Hot_."

"Minho, it's five past eleven," Hyunjin called. "Can you guys get out before you scare away the customers?"

"I'm enjoying the free entertainment, actually," somebody spoke up from a few tables over—this guy who sat next to Jisung in his production class, actually. Jisung offered him a wink once they made eye contact.

"Thanks, Changbin." He bowed slightly. "I'll be here every night."

"He's not kidding," Minho added. "Every goddamn night."

"Don't act like you don't bask in my presence," Jisung scoffed. He finally let go of Minho's waist, but only because he felt like he would go insane if he held onto him for another second. Minho was so _warm_ and _soft,_ and he smelled like _vanilla frosting,_ and—

He was going to be in Jisung’s car.

"Go clock out.” Jisung gently pushed Minho toward the counter and snatched his own bag. “Let’s get going.”

"I already clocked him out," Jeongin yelled from behind the coffee machinery. Jisung had no fucking clue how the younger managed to eavesdrop on them, considering they were a solid twenty feet away from the counter, but it was starting to irritate him.

"What? When?" Minho whined.

"The second you let Jisung take over your job."

"That wasn't my choice!"

"Wait," Hyunjin said slowly. "Jisung _actually_ worked?"

"Don't even ask," Jeongin muttered, then poked his head out to glare at Minho and Jisung. "Go get your shit and leave."

"So _disrespectful_ ," Minho scoffed. "Considering I'm your elder, I should probably beat your ass for—"

"Nah, you wouldn't dare." Jeongin flashed him an evil little smile. "I have _plenty_ of shit on you." His eyes flickered to Jisung.

Minho didn't respond.

"Oh, do tell," Jisung tried but Minho was tugging on his arm and dragging him over to the doorway, preventing Jeongin from elaborating.

"Go get your car." He pouted dramatically. "Please? I don't wanna freeze my ass off."

Jisung would have rather died than turn down that pout or that sweet voice.

"Okay, okay." He waved to the two baristas behind the counter. "See you later, baby. Or _babies_ , plural." He ignored Minho's groan. "And have fun making out or whatever."

" _Huh?"_ Hyunjin yelled, but Jisung was already heading out the door.

As soon as he was gone from Minho's sight, he damn near dropped to his knees, completely and utterly overwhelmed at whatever the fuck had just occurred in that café.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," he exhaled. He gripped his hair in an attempt to ground himself, make sure he was real.

It was fine. He was fine.

He didn't wanna get his hopes up or anything; it was very much possible that Minho only viewed him in a friendly way, but still, he had _held Jisung's hands_ , and _confided in him_ about his god-awful ex, and he was going to _be in his car_ , and they were going to _spend time together_ outside of the café after months and months and months.

Jisung wasn't fine at all.

Not wanting to be caught crouching outside the coffee shop mid-breakdown, he jumped to his feet and rushed across the small parking lot to warm up his car for Minho as requested.

It was well into spring, but nights were still relatively cold. Just the thought of Minho walking home after closing every night, or even _some_ nights, made Jisung fume in the solitude of his car. If he had known earlier, he would’ve been driving Minho home every damn night.

All of a sudden, he felt lost. Here he thought he had known everything he needed to know about Minho, only to have his entire perception of the barista’s life warped in the span of a couple hours or less.

He wished he had realized sooner—realized that Minho was still suffering, that the brightness in his eyes was likely contained inside the walls of the coffee shop. He had never even stopped to think that there was so much more happening outside that door, and he felt so _stupid_.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to learn it all.

By the time Minho made his way over to the parking lot, Jisung's nerves were practically feasting on him. Somehow, being outside of the café made him feel completely naked. And he imagined Minho might've been feeling similarly, considering everything Jisung had discovered about him tonight.

He startled at the sound of tapping at the passenger seat window and turned to see Minho pouting, and— _Why was his hair wet?_ He quickly unlocked the doors, blinking into focus after he'd spaced out.

Oh, shit. It had started raining, just as Minho said.

"Made me walk all the way over here in the _rain_ ," Minho mumbled teasingly. He placed his bag on the floor and ruffled his damp hair; it was only sprinkling at the moment, but it was enough to have Minho partially wet and shivering.

"I'm sorry!" Jisung cried, rushing to envelop Minho's hands in his to try and warm them. "I totally spaced out."

"It's fine." Minho gave him a warm smile. "Could've been walking home in this."

Jisung's face fell; he was still indescribably upset about that.

"Do I wanna know how far that is?"

Minho made a pained face, his gaze dropping to their hands. "It's only, like, a mile. I can get there in half an hour or less."

" _Minho_ ," Jisung gasped. He felt like crying. "That's a long ass walk, let alone at _night_. And _alone?_ "

"Don’t worry about it." Minho pulled his hands out of Jisung's to hold them properly and give them a reassuring squeeze. Jisung tried not to pass out.

"Please let me drive you home," he mumbled. "Like, every day, forever. I'm not letting you walk home again."

"I said _don’t_ _worry_ ," Minho groaned. "I would feel bad, really. I already feel bad for this. And for letting you flirt with me without telling you I was roommates with my goddamn ex that you want to beat the shit out of."

"You don't need to apologize for that," Jisung said, rubbing his thumbs along Minho's hands. "And, to be fair, I sort of flirted with you before you broke up, anyway."

Minho smiled a little, averting Jisung's eyes once again.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "Just about the only reason I stayed sane."

Jisung's stomach did a flip.

"I'm glad I could help," he whispered. "I'm sorry I can’t do more."

"God, no." Minho's voice was suddenly a notch louder. He looked up at Jisung again, eyes solemn. "Trust me, you've done way more than you think." His voice softened again. "Honestly, I don't know if I'd have gotten out of that shit without you."

Jisung's stomach did a _backflip_.

"Wh-Wha—?" he stammered.

_Don't jump to conclusions. Don't do it. Don't._

Minho only gave him a timid nod. "I mean, it's kind of saying something that a regular at my café treated me with a hundred times more respect than my damn boyfriend, you know?" He pulled away from Jisung to tiredly rub his hands over his face. He _had_ had a long night, after all. "Sorry, that probably sounds weird as fuck."

"It's not weird. I literally wrote a song about you," Jisung argued, then flushed immediately. "Just kidding. But I'm glad; I'm really glad that you're out of there—or almost out of there. He's a piece of shit. I'm happy that my pick-up lines got through to you."

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Minho groaned, hands falling from his face so he could glare at Jisung.

"Make _me_." Jisung smiled devilishly, but his teasing quickly came to a halt when Minho gave him an inquisitive stare. "...What?"

"Do you mean that?"

Jisung swallowed. "Huh?"

"When you say stuff like that," Minho continued. "Like, the five hundred or so pick-up lines you've said." Jisung wanted to fight him on that—it was more like _two_ hundred—but the words coming out of Minho's mouth were making his heart rate triple. "Do you actually mean them?"

"Do I _mean_ them?" Jisung whispered. Minho grinned at his wide-eyed expression, clearly amused at how he had knocked Jisung completely off-guard.

"I guess that answers my question. All bark, no bite, huh?"

"Wha— _No_ ," Jisung argued. "That's not _true_. What, you think I won't kiss you right now? You think I won't suck your dick in this car?"

Minho's pupils dilated.

 _Shit_. Why the _fuck_ would he say—

"Do it, then."

Jisung eyes grew wide. " _What?_ "

"You said you're not all bark, no bite. Where’s the proof?"

Jisung's head was spinning out of control. He had no clue whether Minho was teasing or not, no clue whether he _wanted_ Minho to be teasing or not.

"I mean," Jisung whispered, trying to get a hold of himself after nearly suffocating in front of Minho's eyes. He finally managed a smirk. “Were you asking me to kiss you or suck your dick, though?"

Minho smacked his arm. "I meant _kiss_ me, asshole. You think I'd let you suck my dick before the first date?" he scoffed.

"Date? I'm pretty sure you rejected me earlier—Wait."

Wait.

 _Wait_.

Had Minho seriously, genuinely, literally told Jisung to _kiss_ him?

"You _know_ why I rejected you earlier." Minho’s lower lip jutted out, and _holy fuck_. Holy fuck, Jisung wanted to kiss him right now, _needed_ to. "I told you I don't wanna drag you in—"

Jisung had just about had enough of Minho's selfless attempts to push him away by this point. So he did what any desperate, pathetically whipped twenty-something year old would do and shut him up with warm hands cupping his face and cold lips rushing to press against his.

It went accordingly. Minho fell silent.

As soon as their lips touched and the realization of his impulsive actions dawned on him, Jisung was ready to jump back and apologize his way out of whatever mess he'd just created. But thankfully, _surprisingly_ , he didn't have to—because Minho's hands were wrapping around Jisung's wrists in order to keep the younger's hands planted on either side of his face, and Minho's lips were slowly starting to move against Jisung’s in response, and Minho's head was tilting to the side, a soft sigh filling the gap between both of their mouths as they pulled away.

Jisung's wrists burned where Minho held them, and his lips scorched when Minho captured them in another short kiss.

"Fine," Minho breathed against his mouth, separating them just enough to make eye contact. Jisung struggled to not turn away and bang his head against the steering wheel. How could he look Minho in the eye after that? How could he force words out after finding out how addicting, how _sweet_ Minho’s tasted?

"Fine what?" he finally replied, dazed, eyes leaving Minho's to shamelessly take in his glistening lips.

"You've got _some_ bite."

"I—I told you so," Jisung mumbled, but his voice held no power.

He had kissed Minho. Minho had kissed _him_.

"Well," the elder said, and his tinted cheeks looked _so_ much prettier up close. "You still have about four hundred and ninety-nine pick-up lines to make up for, so…"

Jisung huffed but couldn't think of a comeback, couldn't think of anything aside from the fact that Minho's lips were mere centimeters away from his, so he indulgently reconnected their mouths instead.

After all the jokes he'd made about doing this, all the times he'd thought about wiping a smirk off his favorite barista's lips, all the nights he'd lied in bed, fingers itching to grab his laptop and soundboard, the feeling of kissing Minho was beyond anything he ever could've imagined.

Minho eventually let go of his wrists, moving to bunch his hands in the younger's shirt and tug him forward instead. Jisung couldn't help but smile into the kiss; Minho was so much more _desperate_ than he'd expected him to be. He absolutely _adored_ him.

Jisung moved his hands, as well, trailing through Minho's hair and gripping it firmly at the back so he could tilt the elder's head more. Minho let out the softest hums as they kissed, and Jisung couldn't help but wonder if he was trapped in some twisted, drunken dream.

It wouldn't be the first one.

"I'm sorry," Minho whispered between short kisses. "I shouldn’t be doing this." More kisses, then a hesitant tongue brushing against Jisung’s. "I said I wouldn't."

"I'm gonna need you to stop apologizing," Jisung laughed. Minho pulled away and frowned, hands cupping Jisung's face to hold it still.

"No, seriously," he said. "It's—It's unfair. I mean, I'm still living with my goddamn _ex_."

"Let's move him out, then," Jisung joked. “The offer’s still open.”

Minho rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss him once more.

"Soon," he groaned. "He's going to be gone for good. He’s just getting so much more obnoxious, probably because he's stressed about packing or whatever." He kissed Jisung's cheek, then pulled away to sit back in his seat. "I hope to god he's asleep when you drop me off later; I really don't wanna talk to him."

Jisung chewed on his lip. There was an obvious solution to that problem, but he wasn't sure if he had the guts to ask. Whatever was happening between him and Minho right now was exceeding his wildest dreams. He'd likely crawl into a hole and never come out if he somehow messed it up.

But knowing that Minho was suffering, knowing that he himself was potentially able to lift some of that burden from the barista’s shoulders made him willing to take the risk.

"Hey," he said quietly, nervously. "Listen, I don't want to overstep, but... you could come over for a little while, if you want? Till he’s asleep, or till you feel better? I mean, I stay up late, anyway."

Minho stared at him, lips parting in surprise. He then smiled gently. "I feel like _I'm_ the one overstepping, honestly."

"No way." Jisung took his hand and smiled. "I'd love to have you in my beautiful home." He'd love it a little _too_ much. And likely piss himself the moment Minho stepped over the threshold. "...Even though it's disorganized as shit."

Minho’s eyes brightened, despite the fact that Jisung had just told him that his apartment was more or less a dump. "I can help you organize,” he offered.

"Oh, that's okay. Too much shit I don't need you to find."

He nearly groaned out loud _._ It was true, but _why_ did he say that?

"Oh?" Minho cocked an eyebrow. "Now I'm curious."

"Don't be. You're going to regret snooping when you find the body bag."

"Shut up," Minho giggled. "I don't believe that one bit. You wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Did I not threaten to run over your shitty ex earlier?"

"No, actually, I think you said you'd _disassemble his limbs_."

“You’re a smartass,” Jisung groaned, and he really, _really_ wanted to kiss the smug smile off Minho’s lips, but he tried to summon some restraint. Minho had been clear that he hadn’t meant for _whatever had just happened_ to happen.

Jisung was okay with that. He didn’t expect more, didn’t need more. He could carry those kisses with him for the rest of his life, if he had to.

He left Minho with his thoughts for the short car ride to his own apartment, letting the elder fumble with his car stereo and holding back smiles when he hummed along to different melodies. His voice was undeniably the sweetest Jisung had ever heard, and it almost put him at ease— _almost_.

Almost, but not quite, because they were soon pulling into Jisung's parking lot, and Jisung was shaking in his seat.

Oh, fuck. Oh, _fuck_.

Minho was _here_. He was coming _inside_.

"Wait, you seriously live here?" Minho murmured, eyes wide as they took in the apartment complex in the dim moonlight. "What are you, a sugar baby?"

Jisung almost fell over. " _No!_ No, no." When Minho only raised his eyebrows in amusement at the reaction, he rushed to explain himself. "Not a sugar baby. I just happen to save a lot." His cheeks flushed.

"From what? Music?"

Jisung was startled by Minho's apparent interest in his personal life, but he nodded shyly. "Yeah. I mean, nothing big. Just revenue from ads and shit."

"Really? That's cool, Jisung," Minho said, and his smile was so genuine it made Jisung's body relax despite the fact that _Minho was coming into his apartment_.

"I guess," Jisung shrugged, then poked Minho's cheek. "What's with all the questions? Are _you_ looking to be a sugar baby?"

Minho scoffed, rolling his eyes and unbuckling his seatbelt. "As if. I'm the one who's always buying your latte refills."

"Well, you—" Jisung’s mind cut out for a moment. "I never asked you to do that!" He pointed a finger at Minho. "You're in love with me!"

Minho blinked at him, then threw his head back with a laugh. "Says the one who's come to my café every day of the school year just to flirt with me."

"Wha—?" Jisung face suddenly burned. Minho wasn't _wrong_ , not at all, but Jisung had been under the impression that he was at least _somewhat_ sly all these months, always coming into the coffee shop with the excuse lyrics or an essay to work on. "You—That's not—How—"

"Calm down," Minho giggled, reaching over to take one of Jisung's hands in both of his. "I'm kidding." He had a feeling that Minho wasn't kidding. "Enough of your shitty comebacks; did you want to go inside? Or did you want to stay in here and make out again?"

Jisung almost jumped out of his seat.

_Make out? Again?_

"I thought—" he spluttered— "I thought you didn't want to anymore."

Minho glowered at him. "I never said that. I just said I shouldn't." His voice quieted. "And I meant it. I'm not dragging you into this."

"Minho, if I hear you say that one more time, I will personally head to your apartment and pack your ex boyfriend's shit myself," Jisung said with a frown, but the corners of his lips soon quirked up when Minho laughed at the words. "You're not—You're not dragging me into anything, okay?"

Minho only chewed on his lip, staring at Jisung contemplatively.

"What is it?" Jisung whispered, heart starting to race. Maybe he was crossing a line. No, he was _definitely_ crossing a—

"I'm cold."

Jisung exhaled deeply and threw his head back, relieved, then glared at Minho in the dark when he began to laugh. "Stop laughing, you scared me."

"What did you think I was gonna say?" he teased. "You think I was gonna ask you to suck my dick?"

"No!" Jisung cried, ripping his hand from Minho's grip in embarrassment. He really _hadn't_ thought of that—but fuck, _now_ he was. "I don't know, I thought you were gonna say you wanted to leave or something."

"Why would I? I don't wanna leave." He leaned over and unbuckled Jisung's seatbelt for him. "And I'm cold. So lead me to your tornado-stricken, sugar baby penthouse."

"I'm not—I don't have a—Come on," Jisung grumbled, grabbing his bag and exiting the car, Minho following behind. He shyly took the elder’s hand as they approached the entrance, falling into a banter-free silence for once.

"Oh?" Minho murmured when Jisung led him down the hallway on the first floor. "No penthouse?"

"No penthouse," Jisung confirmed with an eye roll. He let go of Minho's hand to fish for his keys in the side pocket of his backpack and desperately tried to ignore the pout he saw on Minho's lips out of the corner of his eye.

"It's a fucking hellhole; I'm so sorry," he mumbled, jiggling the key and finally unlocking the door to reveal his place.

Minho's eyes widened as he scanned the place. "Jisung, this is huge! You've _gotta_ be a sugar baby."

"Oh my god, please," Jisung groaned, pulling Minho inside with red cheeks.

Minho was standing in his apartment.

This was fine.

"Where's the tornado wreck?" Minho murmured, taking in his surroundings with a curious look in his eyes. "This is nothing."

"Seriously?" Jisung gaped. "My, uh—people used to give me a lot of shit for being messy."

Minho raised an eyebrow at his almost admittance but didn't point it out.

Jisung exhaled slowly. He liked Minho a whole lot; the last thing he wanted to do was throw his ex-boyfriend baggage onto him.

After all, he was free of that bastard, had been for a while. Right now, _Minho_ was the one who needed saving.

"It's not bad at all," Minho said as he took his shoes off and placed his bag down by the door. "And here I thought I was going to get to be your maid."

Jisung practically tripped over his feet. He did _not_ need that image. Nope.

Minho smiled sweetly at his reaction. "Do I even wanna know what just went through your head?"

"Shut up," Jisung mumbled. "Anyway, thanks for making it feel like less of a shithole."

"You should see my place," Minho grumbled, tailing behind Jisung into the kitchen and sitting down on a stool while Jisung headed to the fridge.

"It's bad?" Jisung hummed. "Also, do you want water, soda, alcohol...?"

"Water is fine. I don't need to spill my deep, dark secrets just yet."

Jisung blushed at that but grabbed two cups and began to fill them with water.

"I don't take you to be the messy type," he continued.

"Oh, I'm not," Minho huffed. "It's all _him_. Drives me fucking nuts."

Jisung gave Minho a weary look as he passed him his water. "I can call a moving truck."

Minho smiled down at his cup and shook his head. "You're sweet, Jisungie." He then yawned, and Jisung's heart swelled, the sudden urge to wrap Minho and blankets and tuck him into bed creeping up on him.

"You must be tired," he murmured. "Let's go to the living room or something. We can watch stupid shit on TV."

Minho nodded sleepily, standing from the stool and loosely linking arms with Jisung while the younger led him out of the kitchen toward the living room area.

"Jesus," Minho whispered. "This place is fucking huge. It must get lonely, huh?"

"Not really," Jisung answered, pulling Minho onto the couch. "It wasn't always this spacious. I mean there were two bedrooms, three beds. Now the beds are gone, and the old bedroom is my work area."

"Do you miss them?"

"Huh?" Jisung tried not to look too surprised when Minho leaned into his side.

"Your old roommates."

Jisung swallowed.

His _old roommates_ , meaning his ex-boyfriend who cheated on him in _his own bed_ —Jisung still didn’t understand why it had to be _his_ —and their mutual friend who ended up moving out shortly after to give Jisung space while he was wallowing in self-pity and planning to shut out every human being ever.

Until he met a certain someone at a certain café.

"No." He forced out a laugh, sliding his hand into Minho's—in a totally platonic way, of course—as he grabbed the remote and started channel surfing. "I don't really miss them." He felt bad the moment the words left his mouth. Chan, the mutual friend, had done nothing wrong; honestly, Jisung practically forced him to move out. Chan was even the one to nearly break his ex’s skull. "Well, I miss one of them a bit. We talk sometimes."

"What about the other?"

Jisung swallowed, then turned to Minho and gave him a sloppy, totally platonic kiss on the cheek in an attempt to distract the elder _and_ himself.

"I'm gonna need some alcohol before I start spilling my deep, dark secrets," he said in Minho's own words.

Minho laughed, head dropping to Jisung's shoulder. "Touché."

They didn't speak for a while after that. Jisung put on some trash drama, and the both of them pretended to pay attention. Minho let out sleepy hums and rubbed his cheek against Jisung's shoulder while Jisung drowned in his own thoughts, completely overwhelmed by the fact that Minho was draped across him so naturally.

He had imagined taking Minho out for the first time—whether that be totally platonic or not—in about a million different scenarios, but he'd never pictured it like this. Never imagined Minho in his car, lips on his, Minho in his apartment, cuddled up to him like this was something that happened every day, all in one night.

It didn't happen every day.

But he really, _really_ wanted it to.

Out of nowhere, Minho's voice reached Jisung's ears, too soft for him to hear. He shifted his eyes to the elder who was peering up at him sleepily. He was _so fucking cute_.

"Huh?" he hummed. "What was that?"

"Is this weird?"

Jisung’s eyebrows drew together. "Weird? What's weird?"

Okay, to be fair, the entire evening had been _weird_. In a good way.

"Us... doing this," Minho said. His voice was hardly audible, eyelids drooping. He dropped his head so he had his chin propped on Jisung's shoulder, their faces even closer than before. His hand snaked down to find Jisung's. "I mean, we've never really done this. Is it weird?"

Jisung's heartbeat picked up speed. "Do—Do you think it's weird? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

But Minho's hand was squeezing his tighter, and his lips were curling up into a small smile. He shook his head.

"You're not making me uncomfortable at all," he said. "This is the most comfortable I've ever been. That's the _weird_ part."

Jisung chewed on his lip, humming in acknowledgement.

"I mean, I don't know," he replied, hesitantly reaching with his free hand to brush Minho's bangs back and breath hitching when Minho nuzzled his face against his palm. He stroked his thumb across Minho's cheekbone while he kept talking, wondering in the back of his head if Minho was actually _real_. "We spend so much time together in that damn café, I think we were bound to end up like this at some point, huh?" He tried to joke. "But... I've wanted this for a long time. So it's not weird, not for me."

"Me too," Minho whispered. "I don't know why we haven't done this before. I guess I always felt like we spent enough time there. But this is different. This is really different."

Jisung swallowed. "It's my fault," he said, laughing quietly. "I give you five different pick-up lines a day, yet I've never _actually_ asked you to hang out. Well, until today."

"And I said no." Minho frowned. "And yet I'm here right now. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I keep saying I won't do something, and then I change my mind and do it anyway." Minho sucked on his lower lip, guilt shining in his eyes.

"That's not something to be sorry for. I'm glad you changed your mind; it gets lonely here, anyway."

"Thought you said it didn't?"

Jisung suddenly broke eye contact, and Minho giggled.

"I really don't mind being alone," he explained. "But this—Honestly, I like having you here more than being alone."

Minho smiled softly, then tilted his head down and pressed a soft kiss against Jisung's shoulder, spreading warmth throughout his entire body.

"I want—" Whatever Minho was about to say was abruptly interrupted by a ringtone coming from across the apartment. Minho groaned, detaching himself from Jisung and pushing off the couch. "My phone, sorry. Lemme see who it is."

Jisung nodded understandingly then flopped across the couch the moment Minho was gone, inhaling and exhaling to see if he was still functioning like a normal person.

It was taking everything in him to not kiss Minho breathless, steal the air from his lungs and leave his lips a sparkling rose.

He knew better than to be selfish, though. Just being around Minho was enough for him, and the memory of Minho's lips on his in the car was still spinning circles in his head. To be honest, he'd probably pass out if he kissed Minho again anytime soon.

" _Why do you care?_ "

He immediately tensed at the sound of Minho hissing at his phone, heart sinking as he realized who was probably on the other end of the line. He shot up and headed out to where Minho was, leaning against the door with a hand on his hip and his phone pressed to his ear.

 _Ex?_ Jisung mouthed, and Minho nodded with an eye-roll, lifting the hand from his hip to wave Jisung off with a reassuring smile. Jisung decided not to bother him; as much as he'd have loved to yank the phone from Minho's hand and cuss out that douchebag, he knew Minho didn't want him getting involved, knew Minho could handle himself.

He nodded understandingly, backing away to head to the kitchen and put away some dishes he'd been procrastinating on organizing for days. He could still hear Minho's annoyed voice, but it was slightly drowned out by the sound of the dishes being stacked.

Until it grew louder.

" _Would you fuck off?_ " he heard Minho growl, voice high and choked-sounding. He froze, not wanting to go bother the elder, but _fuck_ , hearing him that upset lit a fire in his gut. " _Please, just this once, shut the fuck up._ " 

It sounded like Minho was close to crying out of frustration. Jisung's hands shook. He quickly put away one more plate and closed the cabinet; he couldn't stay out of it anymore.

If Minho wasn't going to _drag him in_ , he would drag his own damn self in.

He darted back to the doorway where Minho was pacing, one hand rubbing at his face in distress. His head instantly snapped up when he heard Jisung approach, and for a second, he just stared, his expression a mixture of unidentifiable emotions. He rapidly shook his head at Jisung.

"Minho, hang up," he whispered, shattered at the sight of Minho's teary eyes.

Minho pressed his lips together, then turned away.

"I have to go," he growled. "No, I don't care. Fuck _off_."

Jisung flinched at the bitter tone. Anyone who made Minho sound like that was going straight to hell.

There was thick silence for a few seconds, save for the sound of Minho's shuddery breaths and Jisung's nervous swallowing.

"Baby, you okay?" he whispered, cautiously approaching Minho. He couldn't bother being embarrassed about letting the petname slip out this time, too concerned for Minho.

"No, yeah, I just." Minho let out a shuddery sigh, back still turned to Jisung. He slid his phone into his pocket and wiped at his face with both hands. "I just cry when I'm pissed, and he pisses me off a lot."

"It's okay, I do the same," Jisung murmured, finally coming close enough to squeeze Minho's shoulder and turn him so they were face to face. "What can I do?"

Minho hesitantly dropped his hands from his face, and Jisung tried not to cry at how upset he looked. The elder shook his head again. "Nothing. You don't have to—Don't pity me. Please."

Jisung stared, taken aback by the words.

"I'm not pitying you," he rushed, throat suddenly tightening at the thought of giving Minho that impression. He knew better than anyone how shitty it felt to be treated like _that_ after a break-up, to be stared at with sorrowful eyes like a wounded animal. It was the worst feeling in the world. "Please don't think that, like, ever." He stepped closer to take Minho's hand and gently guide him away from the doorway. "I don't pity you; I just want you to be happy."

Minho's lower lip trembled, eyes even glassier. "Thank you," he whispered, and Jisung only gave him a comforting smile and led him back into the living room. The moment they sat down, Minho's hands flew to his face to wipe his eyes again, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice strained. He was clearly trying not to cry, and it broke Jisung into pieces to see. "It’s my first time at your place, and—This is so annoying."

"No it's not," Jisung said quickly. "It's not. _He's_ annoying."

Minho laughed sadly, sniffling and continuing to wipe at his eyes. "He's fucking awful. I wish he'd just be gone already. Honestly, it's been fine with him staying with friends on and off, but ever since he settled on a new place, he's made such a point of being a fucking ass. I can't, I can't—" He trailed off mid-sentence, words shaky. Jisung teared up at the sight.

"Stay here," he whispered before he could dwell on the thought. "You can spend the night here. I have clothes you can borrow. And blankets. And a concerning amount of pillows."

Minho uncovered his face then, staring at Jisung in disbelief. He shook his head. "No. _No_ , Jisung, you've done enough for me. Way too much."

"I'm not going to make you stay here if you don't wanna," Jisung said, "but I'd like you to. I'd feel better if you did, honestly. And it would make things a little less lonely." He offered a small, hesitant smile.

For a few seconds, Minho just stared at him, the last tears on his cheeks drying. He then crawled forward and wordlessly moved onto Jisung's lap.

Jisung tensed in surprise, holding his breath as Minho shifted around, thighs on either side of him, arms looped around his neck, face nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Is that—Is that a yes?" Jisung choked out, cautiously holding Minho's waist and trying not to lose his shit while the elder tucked his face into his neck better, warm breath hitting his skin.

"Mm," is all Minho responded with. Jisung huffed at the vague response but moved one of his hands to card through Minho's hair, which made Minho let out tiny hums and press against him more, so he kept going, kept running his fingers through Minho's soft locks and scratching gently at his scalp until his arm ached and he was positive Minho had fallen asleep.

He dropped his arm with a sigh, gently holding Minho at the waist again and trying not to move too much or breathe too heavily. But it was difficult, _extremely_ so, when he had a lapful of the barista he'd spent months growing more and more affectionate toward by the day.

"You're unreal," he muttered under his breath, thumbs subconsciously rubbing circles against Minho's hips. No way was he real. No way was any of this real.

"Am too," Minho suddenly mumbled, voice muffled against Jisung's neck, and the younger yelped, jolting and nearly dropping Minho onto the floor in the process. " _Hey_."

"Sorry," Jisung whispered, face growing warm. "I thought you were asleep, sorry. God, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," Minho echoed, pulling his face from Jisung's neck to lock their eyes, and holy _shit_ , their faces were _so fucking close_. Jisung swallowed hard, resisting the urge to lean in and do what he so badly wanted to do again. _Don't do it_. _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it_ —

 _Minho_ did it.

Before Jisung could process what was happening, Minho's fingers were threading through his hair and pulling his head down to close the small distance between their lips. Jisung inhaled sharply through his nose, eyes briefly widening, but really, he couldn't be fucked to stop him.

So he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, allowed his hands to rub at Minho's sides, allowed his face to tilt and his tongue to graze the elder's.

It was incredibly different from the experience in the car. It felt slower, intimately slow. Minho didn't pull away to apologize this time, so they kept going and going, only pulling away for air and then meeting in the middle again.

Jisung was either going crazy, or he was in heaven.

It was one of the two. It had to be. Because there was no way, _no way_ this was real.

He smiled against Minho's lips, easily able to tell from the sloppy kisses that he was practically half-asleep.

"Sleepy?" he whispered, pulling away and snaking one hand up to pinch at Minho's cheek. Minho only pouted and hummed, leaning forward for more kisses.

Jisung _truly_ couldn't be fucked to stop him.

Their kisses remained slow but somewhat intense, Minho’s hands leaving Jisung’s hair and bunching up in the collar of his shirt like earlier to keep him as close as possible. He let out quiet noises whenever Jisung sucked on his lower lip or clutched his waist, and _fuck_ , if Jisung wasn’t already crazy, he was at least halfway there.

When Minho pulled away at last, lips shining even in the dim lighting, Jisung prepared himself to hear another _I don't wanna drag you into this_ speech or at least an _I shouldn't have done that_. Instead, he was met by Minho's lips pressed to his jaw, soon leaving open-mouthed kisses toward his ear and down his throat.

"Fuck," he whispered. Minho was now _sucking at his skin_ , directly above his collarbone, and if Jisung didn't stop him he'd probably end up with a fucking _hickey_. He gripped Minho's hips tightly, then shuddered when Minho let out a soft hum against his shoulder.

Once every inch of Jisung's neck was scorching from the touch of Minho's soft lips, the elder tilted his head up again and planted his lips against Jisung's in a quick kiss.

"Sorry," he whispered, and _ah, there it is_ — "But I'm so tired."

Jisung lips parted. Minho hadn't apologized for kissing him, not this time. He sighed in relief and laughed softly, squeezing Minho's waist one more time before gently moving him from his lap.

"Don't apologize. Do you wanna stay in my bed, and I can take the couch—?"

Minho shook his head, eyes narrowing and lower lip jutting out, and Jisung had to stand from the couch to keep himself from lunging at the elder and connecting their mouths again.

"You sure?"

"I like this couch," is all Minho said. Jisung snickered at the response, but he gave up on arguing and headed over to the closet where he kept blankets, pillows, and whatnot. Minho probably didn't need three blankets—it wasn't _that_ cold—but Jisung quite liked the idea of seeing the barista all bundled up, so he grabbed three anyway.

Minho gave him a sleepy smile once he arrived back at the couch and tossed him a pillow then placed down the pile of blankets for him to sort through.

That was when he remembered the skinny jeans hugging Minho's legs and the button-up shirt clothing his torso.

"Oh, clothes," he murmured, trying not to let off how much the idea of Minho in his clothes made him want to curl into a ball and scream his lungs out. "What do you want? Is sweatpants and a hoodie okay?"

Minho shrugged. "I don't need clothes.” His hands reached to undo the buttons on his shirt. 

Jisung's eyes bulged. "No, no," he rushed. "It's cold. I'll grab you something." He practically ran for his room, knowing damn well he would pass out if he saw Minho with any articles of clothing removed.

To his relief, the shirt was only halfway unbuttoned by the time he got back, so he could manage to avert his eyes from Minho's partially exposed chest.

"Here. I'm gonna go to the bathroom to wash up; I'll leave out a spare toothbrush for you, okay?"

Minho nodded. "Thank you," he whispered, seemingly more awake than he had been earlier. Jisung patted his head and left the room again, trying not to collapse on the bathroom floor the moment the door was closed.

" _Get a grip_ ," he muttered to himself.

But he couldn’t get a grip, not when Minho was in his apartment, not when Minho had been in his lap five minutes ago, not when the ghost of Minho's mouth was haunting his.

He slowly exhaled, then tried to brush his teeth and wash his face as quickly as possible so he could get the elder to bed.

This wasn't about him. Minho wasn't here to kiss him. Hell, Minho probably hadn't even _meant_ to kiss him in the first place.

Jisung arrived back at the living room to find the elder splayed out on _his_ couch in _his_ sweatpants and _his_ hoodie, eyes lidded and blinking at him tiredly.

He had no words for the sight.

"You… look cute," he settled on, face burning. _Fuck_ , what was wrong with him? Two hundred pick-up lines, about half of them hardly appropriate for a coffee shop setting, and now he couldn't even call Minho _cute_ without feeling like he was being devoured by flames?

Minho beamed at the compliment, though he looked about ready to collapse.

"Come here. Let me show you to the bathroom," Jisung mumbled before he could lose himself in the sight. Minho let himself be pulled to his feet and led to the back-most part of the apartment, where Jisung's bedroom, the old bedroom, and the bathroom were located.

"So big," Minho whispered, eyes squinting in the dark as he observed the unexplored area.

Jisung wanted to make a dick joke. He did not.

"There's a toothbrush in there," he said, awkwardly shifting around on his feet. He motioned in the direction of his room. "My room's over there if you need anything. Okay? Let me know if you need anything, seriously."

Minho nodded, eyes twinkling despite how worn out he appeared, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Jisung let out the longest exhale in the history of his life as he headed over to his room. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sleep. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sleep _ever again_ , actually.

Half of him wanted to believe that he was going to wake up and realize that none of the past few hours had really happened, but the other half of him knew better than that. It felt far too intense to be something his tired mind could conjure up.

He wrapped his entire body around one of his longer pillows, stuffing his face into it and trying not to scream his head off. " _Get a grip_ ," he repeated, words muffled.

Before he could calm down and even attempt to fall asleep, though, his bedroom door creaked open.

He jumped up in an instant, nearly giving himself whiplash, eyes fixing on a sleepy Minho, who was now standing in the doorway.

Minho was standing in the doorway _of his_ _bedroom_.

" _Minho?"_

"Just saying goodnight." Minho's voice was small and quiet as he shuffled toward Jisung's bed and extended his arms for a hug. Jisung stiffened in surprise but quickly leaned in and wrapped his arms tightly around Minho's torso, propping his head on his shoulder.

"You feel okay?" he whispered, then relaxed more when Minho nodded against his neck.

For a second, it felt like he didn't plan on letting go—and Jisung would've been perfectly fine with that, for the record. He'd wanted to know what it was like to hold Minho in his arms for so fucking long, he would gladly stay in place until his limbs fell off.

But eventually, the elder pulled away, hands cupping Jisung's face and lips pecking his cheek before he disconnected their bodies completely.

"Thank you," he whispered, "and sorry for being a burden."

The words made Jisung want to grab him by the waist again and pull him down, hug him so tight that whatever demon his godforsaken piece of shit ex-boyfriend planted inside him was exorcised from his body.

"You're not," he said sternly, taking both of Minho's hands before he could leave. "You're really, really, _really_ not."

Minho gave him an unreadable look. "Well, thank you, anyway. For being patient. I know you've wanted this for a long time."

Jisung blinked rapidly. _Huh?_

"Wha—" he choked out, and he was convinced if the lights were on, his face would be a clear shade of red. "I mean, you're not wrong—but this isn't about me, okay? This is about you. Okay? Don't feel like you have to, you know—"

"Quiet," Minho hushed him with a soft giggle. "I've wanted it, too."

And with that, he was pulling his hands out of Jisung's and offering him one more sleepy smile before turning on his heel and heading out the door.

Jisung flopped back down to his bed, grabbing the pillow again and biting down on it _hard_ this time to stop himself from screaming.

_I've wanted it, too._

— ☕ —

Jisung tended to wake up slowly, then spend about five or ten minutes floating in between dreams and reality. Today was no different. He rolled around his mattress, enjoying the hazy images in his mind of the café and Minho and the—

"Jisung?"

 _Minho_.

He sat up with a gasp, choking as he was abruptly yanked out of dreamland and slapped in the face with reality. Reality, also known as Minho with _tousled hair_ , with _Jisung's clothes_ hugging his frame, with _two_ _fucking blankets_ wrapped around him.

It was near impossible to believe that _this_ was reality.

"Sorry!" Minho's eyes were wide as he watched Jisung come out of his coughing fit. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"No, you—Bad dream." Jisung waved him off. "God, I almost forgot you were here. Are you okay? Did you sleep well? What time even is it— _Oh_ , _shit!_ Do you have work today? Do I have class today?”

"Please calm down," Minho said, clearly suppressing back a laugh. Jisung took his advice, taking a moment to breathe and clear his throat, and _fuck_ , Minho looked so fucking _cute_ in the morning. "I'm fine, I'm going to steal your couch, it's ten in the morning, I have today off, and you don’t have classes until afternoon, as far as I’m aware."

"Okay. Okay, good." Jisung exhaled, running his hands over his face. "That's good. I mean, you can't steal my couch, but the rest is good. Do you want me to attempt to make us food, and then I can bring you back to your place? Is—Is _he_ going to be—?"

"He has a day job," Minho answered reassuringly. "That sounds good. I live kind of near campus. I moved into the place before I graduated."

Jisung nodded and stretched, noting the way Minho's eyes raked his body, and—

 _Oh, fuck_.

Jisung wasn't wearing a shirt.

When the hell had he taken his shirt off?

He gave the discarded article of clothing at the end of his bed a nasty glare, as if it had crawled off his body in the middle of the night to set him up for embarrassment, then shyly met Minho's eyes.

But Minho's eyes weren't on his.

He cleared his throat, unable to conceal his grin despite the flush creeping up his neck. "See something you like?"

Minho flinched, as though he hadn't been aware that Jisung could see his eyes on him. He glowered at the younger, but his ears were tellingly red.

" _No_ ," he argued. "...Well."

" _Well?_ " Jisung's eyes bulged, and suddenly his body was overheating, despite the lack of clothing and all.

" _Well_ ," Minho repeated, giggling now. "Well, are you going to make me food or not?"

Jisung sighed, throwing him a wary look—an extreme contrast to the way all of his organs were doing somersaults at the sight of Minho in his room, eyes bright and sparkling with something that could almost be perceived as _longing_.

But that was probably a reach. Maybe.

"I'll attempt some pancakes," he groaned, reluctantly parting with his bed and doing his best to hold down his ego when he caught Minho's eyes on his chest again. "Go wash up, unless you'd like to stay in here and keep admiring how sexy I am."

"Shut up," Minho hissed, and he was _beyond_ adorable when embarrassed. "I already did wash up."

" _Really?_ How long have you been awake?" Jisung scurried across his room and found a stray hoodie on the floor to tug on. "Did you organize the apartment?"

Minho grinned. "I sure did. Cleaned the whole thing."

"Of course. Did you find the body bag, then?"

"No, but I _did_ listen to your song about me."

"You— _Huh?"_ Jisung spun around, body rigid.

"I'm kidding!" Minho backed away with defensive arms raised. "You think I know how to hack a computer?"

"No, I—Of course you don't," Jisung groaned. "You just startled me by bringing it up."

"So it really _is_ about me, then?" Minho smiled _sickly_ sweet. "Not Hyunjin?"

"Why would it be about—Oh, wait." Jisung rubbed at his face with both hands, recalling that he'd pinned the song's inspiration on Hyunjin in a moment of desperation the day before. "God, it's too early for this. Shit, didn’t I already tell you it was?” Minho gave him a devious smile. “No, don’t answer that. I swear, if you don't shut up about the goddamn song, I'm never letting you sit on my couch again."

" _No!"_ Minho cried. "I won't, I won't."

"Promise?" Jisung approached him and held out a threatening finger. " _Promise_ , Minho."

"I promise!" Minho yelped, backing into the wall as if Jisung was pointing a knife at him rather than a finger. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please don't ban me from your couch."

"Good boy." Jisung winked, then felt his stomach flare with even _more_ heat at the sight of Minho's cheeks painted the slightest shade of pink. "...Anyway, I'm gonna pee," he continued before his mind could spiral out of control. "Feel free to sit on my couch again."

Minho let out a quiet laugh just as the younger darted from the room and locked himself in the bathroom, once again trying not to collapse on the ground.

Jisung had spent a shameful amount of time wishing Minho was his. But now that he thought about it, would he even survive a single _day?_ Just the small touches that had grown more frequent over the months sent his soul flying out of the Milky Way, not to mention last night's _kisses_ , or Minho in his bedroom with his eyes trained on his—

" _Fuck_ ," he swore, turning on the sink and splashing water on his face. He needed to calm the fuck down; Minho would never be his if he somehow ended up passing away on the bathroom floor.

Once he collected himself as much as he was able to with the barista wandering his home, he headed for the living room only to crumble at the sight of Minho curled up in the blankets on his couch, eyes shut.

"Wake up, sleepy," he mumbled, trying to hide the fondness in his voice.

"I'm up," Minho replied, eyes still sealed. Jisung huffed, impatiently reaching forward and scooping the elder into his arms, blanket cocoon and all. "Wha—?"

"Breakfast time," he announced, carrying Minho toward the kitchen and gleefully watching him squirm around in his arms and whine out complaints.

"I can walk, you know," the elder grumbled, falling from Jisung's arms and sitting on one of the kitchen stools with the blankets hanging off his shoulders.

"Maybe I wanted an excuse to carry you," Jisung said evenly, turning away from Minho to hide his smile and the blush forming on his own cheeks. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please. Let's see how good of a barista you are."

“Bet I’m better than you.”

Jisung was a decent barista—but a terrible chef.

He had wasted half an hour and half a box of pre-made mix trying to cook _one_ decent pancake before Minho pushed off the blankets he'd been wrapped in and walked around to the stove to grab the ingredients from Jisung, letting out a dramatically exasperated sigh.

He finished making the pancakes in five minutes.

"I can't believe how talented you are," Jisung said as he finished his last bite, blinking at Minho in disbelief.

Minho scoffed. "These aren't even that good; you're just awful. Maybe I _should_ be your maid."

Jisung avoided choking this time, but it was a close call.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that," he mumbled into his coffee mug. "I really like having you here."

Minho bit his lip, eyes shining. "I feel bad."

Jisung glared. _Not this again_.

"Stop feeling bad," he said firmly, sliding off his stool to grab their plates and toss them in the sink. "Didn't you hear me? I _liked_ having you here."

"Yeah, but..." Minho sighed. "I've never—We've never even made plans before this, outside of the café, and now I just had a fucking sleepover at your house out of nowhere."

"So what?" Jisung approached him once the counter was clear. "I wanted you here. You're always welcome here."

Minho pouted, arms looping around Jisung's neck as he pulled the younger in for an unexpected hug just like the previous night, and Jisung wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to this sort of thing. He _melted_ against him, instantly holding Minho's waist—which was already becoming his hands' favorite place.

He squeezed at the elder's sides gently before he pulled away, struggling to ignore the urge to peck his lips. "Wanna get going?"

Minho nodded, though he tightened his arms around Jisung's neck and prevented him from moving away completely. The younger froze.

"Can I help you?"

"Thank you," Minho whispered, practically breathing against his lips, and _Jesus fucking Christ_ , was he doing this on _purpose?_ "Really, thank you."

“You—You seriously don't have to thank me,” Jisung stammered. He did everything he could to avoid looking at Minho's lips, but the elder was so fucking _close_ , and Jisung couldn't stop thinking about the night before if he fucking _tried_ , and Minho wasn’t fucking _moving_. "Listen, I'm trying really hard not to kiss you right now, so we should probably go—"

Yet again, Minho cut Jisung off by doing the exact thing he was desperately trying _not_ to do.

He was stuck between inhaling in shock and exhaling in relief, so he simply didn’t breathe at all, instead reveling in the feeling of Minho's soft lips against his while they were there. Just in case he’d never feel them again.

He _really_ hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"Sorry," the elder murmured after he pulled away. "Not just about that. About last night, too." He looked away, face tinted with embarrassment.

"Don't be sorry," Jisung softly urged. "You were really out of it."

"No." Minho met his eyes again, chewing on his lower lip. "Not really. I just... wanted to. Even though I shouldn't have."

"Oh.” Jisung tried to lock out the swarm of butterflies attempting to break into his stomach.

Minho looked down with a shy smile. "Yeah."

Before he could stop himself, and _god_ , was he weak, Jisung was leaning forward and brushing his lips against Minho's one more time, one _last_ time.

"Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❝ Backbeat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out. I'm sure you've heard it all before, but you never really had a doubt. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. ❞


	2. Chapter 2

Jisung had a _long fucking day_.

He accidentally slept through his first class, (probably) failed an exam, and then found out that his dissertation was due a week earlier than he had thought. And on top of that, he hadn't seen Minho since the day before the day _before_ when he dropped him off at his apartment, hadn't heard from him, either, which only brought Jisung more distress.

But thankfully, the afternoon went quickly, and he was finally able to make his way over to the café just after the start of Minho's evening shift.

Except Minho wasn't there.

The moment he walked in and saw an unfamiliar face at the cash register, he halted in alarm. Sure, sometimes Minho was occupied making drinks or working in the storage room, but he tended to linger at the cash register—both because it made it easier to talk to Jisung and because he liked taking orders in general.

Jisung hesitantly set his bag down at his usual table and approached the cashier like they were an alien from a faraway galaxy.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Um." Jisung cleared his throat. "Actually, uh, is Minho here?"

The cashier blinked in surprise, then turned their head. "Hey, Jeongin?"

Jeongin walked over. "What's wrong—Oh, hey, Jisung."

"Hi,” Jisung said with a small wave. “Where's, uh, where's Minho?"

"He's not here," Jeongin said with a shrug. "Called out." He pointed to the cashier. "That's why they’re here. I'm training them today."

"Hi there," the new cashier said, and Jisung politely returned the greeting, but his blood was already running cold at the news that Minho had called out.

"Why'd he call out?" Jisung pressed, heart rate picking up speed. There were infinite reasons why Minho may have called out—it wasn't like he hadn't in the past—but Jisung couldn't stop his stomach from twisting now that he was aware of the elder’s _unpleasant_ roommate.

"Dunno."

"Fuck," Jisung swore, then sent the new cashier an apologetic smile. "Okay, um, uh..." He aimlessly moved away from the counter, hands fumbling for his phone.

"Hey, Jisung."

Jisung's head snapped up at Hyunjin’s voice, the elder’s head peeking out of the storage room.

" _Hyunjin_ ," he rushed, heading closer to interrogate him. "Minho—Do you know where Minho is? I mean, I guess he called out, but—"

"Hey, chill, he's fine,” Hyunjin cut him off with wide eyes, clearly taken aback. He emerged from the storage room to walk up to the counter. “He had to fill in for someone at his other job. Last minute emergency or something."

"His—His _what?"_

Hyunjin cocked his head to the side. "His... you know, second job."

"He has another job?"

Since fucking _when?_

Hyunjin made a strangled noise, like he was trying to contain a laugh, and Jisung suddenly wanted to deck him.

"You didn't know— _Hey_ , stop, don't look at me like that. I'm not laughing, I swear."

" _God_ ," Jisung whined, dragging his hands down his face.

"No offense, but why are you so worked up?"

Jisung groaned into his hands, then dropped them to gaze tiredly at Hyunjin. "I don't even know. I just expected him to be here, and then I got worried, and then I found out he has a job that I didn't even know about."

"He's okay." Hyunjin reached over the counter and patted his shoulder, then looked him over thoughtfully. "I think you need a drink.” He shoved Jisung’s shoulder when he erupted in laughter. “No, I’m totally serious. When's the last time you went to a bar?"

"I can’t remember." Jisung started to laugh harder. "God, I think you’re right. Maybe today's the day. I guess I don't have business here anymore."

Hyunjin snickered, then quickly turned it into a cough when Jisung narrowed his eyes. "I'm _sorry_ , it's just... You're fucking whipped."

Jisung only sighed. It was a futile debate.

"But I get off in, like, half an hour,” Hyunjin continued. “I can pick you up if you wanna go."

"...Go where?"

— ☕ —

Jisung had never—not once—entertained the idea of standing outside a flashy, overpopulated bar with the guy his ex-boyfriend cheated on him with, and yet, here he was.

"I've never been here before," he murmured, shifting around nervously as they waited for the bouncer to allow them entrance.

"Well, I think you'll like it," Hyunjin said with a cryptic laugh.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

There wasn’t anything special about the place—at first. Hyunjin settled for a soda, promising he wouldn't drink so they could make it home unscathed, and Jisung started off ordering two shots. He could manage alcohol pretty well, but it _had_ been a while.

"So," Hyunjin said, in a clear attempt to break the awkward silence that seemed to creep in whenever they were alone together, "tell me about you and Minho."

" _Really?_ Tell me about you and _Jeongin_ ," Jisung scoffed.

"We're fucking, and I'm meeting his parents next weekend."

Jisung blinked.

"Your turn." Hyunjin slid Jisung his second shot glass.

"Wha— _Actually?"_

"Yeah." Hyunjin dodged Jisung’s gaze, lips curving up in shyness. "I probably shouldn't have said that, but you're pent up as fuck, so I had to pass the mic to you."

Jisung groaned. "Is it that obvious?"

"I mean, you almost turned over the café when you didn't see Minho there."

"I didn't!" Jisung sulked, then accepted the second shot. "...I was just worried."

Hyunjin hummed, sizing him up like he was conducting an analysis.

"You're not together, though."

Jisung shook his head. "Not yet—I mean, no. He's, well. His ex."

"I know, I know." Hyunjin sipped at his drink. "He likes you, though. He's liked you since before I started working there. Probably before he even dumped that piece of shit."

"No, he—" Jisung stammered. "It's not—It's complicated. I don't know."

"It's not that complicated.”

"No, but it _is_ ," Jisung argued. "I don't think he wants us to, like, do anything. Be anything. At all, or not yet, at least. I think?"

"You don't sound very sure." Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. "Anyway, if that were true, I'm pretty sure there wouldn't be a hickey on your neck."

"A _what?"_ Jisung dropped his head down to see, but looking at his own neck proved to be impossible.

Hyunjin snorted. "What do you mean _a_ _what?_ Have you not looked in the mirror?"

Jisung's whole body flamed at the memory of Minho half asleep, lips attached to his neck. Technically, it shouldn't have been too great of a shock that there was a mark made somewhere along the way, but _fuck_ , Jisung had been so distracted tending to Minho, it hadn't even occurred to him to check the morning after.

"So how'd that happen, huh?" Hyunjin poked the spot without warning, causing Jisung to recoil with a choked yell.

"Fuck off," he cried but giggled nonetheless.

" _What the hell?"_

Jisung’s body went rigid. His head whipped to the side.

No.

No fucking way.

No fucking way was that _Minho_ at the other side of the counter, clothed entirely in black, shirt halfway unbuttoned, hair slicked off his forehead, a stack of glasses in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

Jisung's jaw dropped.

Minho's jaw dropped.

Hyunjin cackled.

"Wha—You—?" Jisung blinked rapidly, disbelievingly. " _What?"_

"What _yourself!_ " Minho retorted, appearing just as baffled as Jisung felt.

"You— _You_ —"

"But—How—"

"Oh my god," Hyunjin groaned. "You guys are hopeless."

Minho turned to Hyunjin and squinted accusingly. "What are _you_ doing here? What is _he_ doing here? What are you _both_ doing here?"

Hyunjin shrugged, a playful, poorly concealed smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay, I—Let me put this shit down," Minho sighed, shaking his head as he crossed the bar.

Jisung immediately whipped back to Hyunjin and yanked him forward by the shirt. "What the _hell?"_

"Why are you attacking me?" Hyunjin yelped as he tried to shake free from Jisung's vice grip.

"You—He works _here?_ Is that why you brought me?"

"I mean, you _were_ looking for him..."

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut. Hyunjin was right. He _had_ been looking for Minho. But he hadn’t expected to find him _here_ , looking like _that_.

"...But I meant what I said. You seriously need a drink, Jisung."

"Oh, I'll have that coming right up," came Minho's voice. He was back at the counter, elbows propped on the polished surface, surveying them with raised eyebrows, blatantly unamused by the run-in.

" _Minho_ ," Jisung whined. "What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me you worked here?"

Minho shrugged. "I don't know. You never asked."

"Why on _earth_ would I ask if you're a bartender?"

Minho shrugged again, eyes raking Jisung's appearance. He hadn't particularly dressed fancy, seeing he’d been under the impression that was going to some trashy place with Hyunjin, who he had no desire to impress. But he still looked decent, in his own opinion, dressed in a black, low-cut shirt and skinny jeans, hair pushed back similarly to Minho's and eyeliner smudged around his lash-line.

"I'm surprised you never told him," Hyunjin chimed in, sipping at his drink some more. "Then you'd get to spend all day _and_ all night with him."

Jisung’s eyes narrowed at the implication of Hyunjin’s words. " _Please_ tell me you don't come here after your café shifts."

Minho turned his head away.

"Oh my _god_ ," Jisung cried. "How are you alive? That's—What the fuck?"

"It's fine," Minho said with a dismissive wave. "Only some days."

“ _Most_ days,” Hyunjin corrected, earning himself a vicious glare.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jisung cried. "I thought we had something special."

"And I thought _I_ was your favorite barista," Minho muttered, giving Hyunjin a pointed, somewhat threatening once-over. "Anyway, I don't know what to tell you. I guess I just... didn't wanna tell you I flirt with douchebags for a living."

"That, by default, would make Jisung a douchebag," Hyunjin pointed out, leading to Jisung’s hands threateningly bunched in his shirt again. "I was _kidding!_ Jeez, get him another shot."

"Will either of you explain why the hell you're here _together?"_ Minho grumbled, pretending to be busy with a drink when another staff member strolled by and eyed him curiously. He was unabashedly pouting, and Jisung was doing his very best to push back his vivid memories of the multiple kisses that had occurred between them a couple days prior.

"No reason. He needed a drink," Hyunjin said, pointing at Jisung, "plus he started crying when he realized you weren't working."

"I did _not_ ," Jisung hissed, but the small smile that appeared on Minho's lips made _him_ smile in spite of himself.

"Can't believe you're cheating on me, Jisungie," Minho whined, suspiciously eyeing the two. Hyunjin and Jisung made brief, awkward eye contact.

 _Ironic_.

"Don’t be like that, babe," Jisung said with a laugh, and he'd have liked to blame the _babe_ on the two shots, but he wasn't _that_ much of a lightweight.

"Uh huh. I bet you showed him your beautifully organized apartment already," Minho continued.

"Organized, my ass!" Hyunjin laughed. Jisung's jaw dropped. How the fuck did Hyunjin even _remember_ the state of the apartment that day? And why the fuck would he say that _in front of Minho?_ "Sorry, sorry. _Shit_ , that's awkward. Does Minho even know?"

" _No_ ," Jisung growled.

"Wait, what?" Minho cried, slamming down the glass he'd been pretending to use and giving the two an incredulous stare. "You—You _did_ see his apartment?"

"It's not like that!" Jisung groaned.

"Yeah, it's really not," Hyunjin backed him up. "It's a long story."

It wasn't _that_ long, but Jisung assumed Hyunjin wanted to tell Minho about the time he'd fucked Jisung's ex in their shared apartment just as little as he wanted to.

Minho eyed him suspiciously.

"Stop looking at me like that," Jisung sighed. He reached forward and took Minho's hand despite his embarrassment. He had missed touching him far too much.

"You're a _cheater_."

"He's really not," Hyunjin cut in with a horribly pained laugh. "Plus, you're not dating him."

Minho looked as though he were formulating a murder plan. "That doesn't mean _you_ can take him!"

"Minho, I'm literally fucking Jeongin."

"No you're not!"

"He really is," Jisung said. Minho turned back to glare at _him_ , now.

"You two seem to know each other awfully well all of a sudden, huh?"

Jisung squeezed his hand. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"I'm not—" he started but trailed off when Jisung bent down and pressed a bold kiss to the top of his hand.

He then intensified his glare and shoved his fingers into Jisung's mouth.

Jisung nearly choked on them in shock.

"Please, god," Hyunjin muttered.

Minho smiled victoriously, but Jisung didn't let it last for too long. He soaked up the two shots in his system and ran with them, hollowing his cheeks around Minho's fingers and sucking, doing his best to withhold a laugh at Minho's instant reaction: ears blooming with red, eyes bulging, lips parting with an inaudible gasp.

"I didn't come here to watch a bad porno," Hyunjin groaned, and Jisung could see him cover his face out of the corner of his eye as he continued to suck at Minho's fingers.

"Minho, the fuck are you— _Jisung?"_

Jisung paused his sucking, eyes shifting to the bartender that had just come up from behind Minho, and he immediately pulled his mouth away from Minho's hand, gaping at the invader.

" _Channie?"_

Jisung’s close friend and roommate _had_ worked as a bartender in the past, but he hadn’t even considered that he might see him _here_ of all places.

"What the fuck?" Minho whispered under his breath.

"Hey, it's been way too long!" He nudged Minho to the side to grab Jisung's hands and shake them enthusiastically. "Are you doing okay? How's the music? How's the apartment?"

" _What?"_ Minho cried, hands reaching up to tug at his own hair. "Have _all_ my co-workers been to your apartment? Are you having an affair with Jeongin, too?"

"Hell, no," Hyunjin snapped. Chan's eyes flitted to Hyunjin, then gradually widened. Hyunjin gave him an awkward smile. "Hey."

"Wait, _you_ —" Chan squinted. "You're—"

"I’m Hyunjin. Uh, long time no see."

Yeah, _long time_. Chan had only spoken Hyunjin once, briefly—right before he beat the shit out of Jisung's vile ex.

"What the fuck?" Minho repeated.

Chan appeared to be just as confused as Minho now, eyes shifting between Hyunjin and Jisung disbelievingly. "So, you guys...?"

He didn't need to voice the question aloud. _Why the fuck are you and the random guy your ex cheated on you with at a fucking bar together?_

"They're dating," Minho mumbled, crossing his arms.

" _Minho_ ," Jisung sighed, reaching out until Minho huffed defeatedly and came forward to hold his hand again, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles, too addicted to the blush on his cheeks to stop, despite being in front of Hyunjin and Chan and about a hundred intoxicated people.

"Wait— _Oh!"_ Chan suddenly cried, as if he'd solved a riddle. He gawked at Minho and Jisung's connected hands. "Oh, _wow!_ Gotcha. So you guys are a thing?"

Minho and Jisung both flinched.

"Uh," they both said at the same time.

Chan laughed and waved his hands apologetically. "Sorry, sorry. I won't pry. But you deserve it, Jisung." He smiled warmly. "I'm happy to see you doing well."

Before Jisung could respond, there was _another_ bartender joining the bunch.

"Why the hell am I the only one working— _Oh, hey!"_

Chan wrapped an arm around his boyfriend and kissed the side of his head. "Just catching up with an old friend." His eyes shifted to Hyunjin. "Or... friends?"

"Felix!" Jisung chirped.

"Oh my _god_ ," Minho groaned. Jisung gripped his hand tighter so he couldn't pull away. "My life is a lie."

"Hey, Ji!" Felix greeted. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"Ji? _Ji?"_ Minho cried. Felix peered over and gave him a confused look.

"What's wrong?"

Minho narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't tell me _you've_ been to Jisung's apartment, too."

"I mean, it’s been a while.”

It was true; he'd been to the apartment plenty of times while Chan was still residing there.

"Wha—I was _kidding!”_ Minho ripped his hand from Jisung's grip and shot him a betrayed look. "I really thought I had you all to myself," he sulked.

"What are you even on about?" Chan asked, throwing his free arm around Minho. "You _do_ know that Jisung and I lived together, right?"

Minho's mouth opened. For a moment, he paused, and then his eyes shifted across everyone in the circle before landing on Jisung. "... _Huh?"_

Jisung smiled awkwardly. "Um, yeah. He was one of my old roommates."

"You—" Minho looked between the two of them, looking completely bewildered. "What? Huh? You… and _you?"_

"Well, this is awkward," Chan said, ducking his head.

"But... but..." Minho mumbled. Jisung almost felt sorry for how confused he probably was; he'd hardly left the elder _bread crumbs_ leading to his past. "What happened?"

Chan made a pained face. "Um, that's not really my story to tell, I don't think." He threw Jisung an _I'm sorry_ look.

Jisung gritted his teeth. Really, Chan? _Really?_

He couldn’t have made up some bullshit?

It wasn't as though Jisung planned on hiding the whole thing from Minho. But, seriously, the elder had been going through enough shit recently; Jisung wasn't about to throw his own sob story onto him. And even if he _did_ plan on opening up about it, _this_ sure as fuck wasn't the time nor place to do it.

"Jisung...?" Minho asked, timid.

"I need another shot," Jisung announced, dodging the elder completely.

"You heard the man," Hyunjin piped up.

"Sorry, Ji." Chan laughed awkwardly. "I thought—"

"Yeah, I know," Jisung cut him off with a hopefully convincing fake smile. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about _what?"_ Minho asked, no longer sulky but clearly confused.

"Nothing," Chan replied. "Hey, Min, why don't you come help me with the annoying frat boys over there? Felix can handle these two." He waved to Hyunjin and Jisung and tugged at a reluctant Minho, who was staring Jisung down like a hurt puppy.

Jisung sighed, burying his face in his arms the moment the two were gone.

"That was painful to watch," Felix muttered.

"Agreed," Hyunjin said.

"Ji, here's your shot." Jisung peeked up from his arms to see the shot glass placed next to him. "On the house, since my boyfriend just made things incredibly awkward between you and your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Well, he talks about you like he is."

Jisung tensed. "...He talks about me?"

"Told you so," Hyunjin teased.

"All the time. I didn't realize it was you, though." Felix stretched, giving Jisung a curious stare. "How come he doesn't know about, you know, _that?"_

"He's... dealing with shit."

"So?" Felix frowned. "So are you."

"I'm fine."

"Jisung, that fucker screwed you over."

"I said I'm _fine_."

Felix sighed. "I'm just saying," he paused and pushed Jisung's shot glass closer to him, "you don't always have to deal with your shit alone."

Jisung gave him a tight-lipped smile.

He'd always dealt with his shit alone. And he was okay with that. The last thing, the very _last_ thing he wanted to do, was to make _Minho_ deal with his shit.

“He's right,” Hyunjin said.

“Sorry, not to be rude," Felix murmured, squinting at Hyunjin, "but who are you?”

“Oh, my name is Hyunjin." He waved. “I’m Minho's co-worker at the café.”

Felix nodded with a soft _Ah_.

“And the guy that you-know-who cheated on me with,” Jisung added before downing his fresh shot.

Felix cocked his head to the side. _"_... _Huh?"_

"Long story," they replied simultaneously.

Jisung tried not to kill the mood too much, but honestly, it had died the second that conversation flipped on him. He was halfway through chugging an impulsively ordered margarita before Hyunjin placed down his phone and snatched the glass out of his hand.

"Enough of that," he said, ignoring Jisung's protesting whine. "I'm gonna give you my two cents."

"Didn't ask."

"You should talk to Minho."

"Fuck off."

"No, _you_ fuck off," Hyunjin retorted. Jisung raised an eyebrow at him. "He's upset. He's out of the loop. He just found out that all of his co-workers know about your shit except for him." He reached out and poked the hickey on Jisung's neck. "When _he's_ the one that left this. Not any of us."

"He didn't—That didn't mean anything. Besides, Jeongin doesn't know,” he attempted to joke.

"Yeah, it did. And Jeongin _does_ know, actually. I told him."

"Seriously?" Jisung groaned, rubbing his face, probably smearing his eyeliner all over. "Why?"

"Because we open up to each other," Hyunjin replied calmly, ruffling Jisung's hair, "which is exactly what you need to do. You and Minho have been playing hide and seek tag for how many months now? It's time, Jisung."

" _He's_ not opening up to _me_ ," Jisung mumbled with a pout. "He said he doesn't wanna drag me into his shit."

"Why should he open up if you won't?" He rolled his eyes at Jisung's glare. "I'm just saying. Besides, you know a whole lot about his shit. He didn't even know you knew—uh, is his name Chan?—until today."

"I didn't know he was a bartender," Jisung argued. "He's keeping secrets, too."

Hyunjin scoffed. "Being a bartender and being fucked over by your boyfriend are not the same, Jisung."

"Fuck _off_."

"Need another shot?" Felix butted in.

"No, he's done," Hyunjin answered for Jisung. "Keep him company, though, I'm gonna go flirt with those old men and see if they'll buy me a drink. Jeongin dared me."

"You're not supposed to drink—" Jisung started but helplessly sighed when Hyunjin walked away before he could finish his sentence.

"Well," Felix said. "Honestly, I think you need another shot. On the house again—Oh, shit. Gotta go."

Jisung looked up, confused, only to see Minho take Felix's place. He inhaled sharply.

Minho looked sad. Really, _really_ sad.

He always hated seeing Minho sad.

"Hey," he cautiously whispered to the elder.

"Are you, um, mad at me?" Minho asked. "I'm sorry. I was just kidding around, and—"

"No, no, _no_ , baby, I'm not," Jisung rushed, the sick feeling in his stomach quickly turning into a different type of sick. He never wanted to make Minho sad, _ever_. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize. Please," Jisung reached over to grab both of his hands, nearly knocking over his glass in the process. "All I do is pry, and I've never apologized to you."

Minho pouted.

"Don't pout; you know I'm right." Jisung played with his fingers. "I didn't mean to make you sad. There's just... a lot of shit that's happened. It's a total coincidence that all of your co-workers are involved." He snickered. "I don't know how that happened. Guess it was fate."

He dropped his gaze the moment the words left his mouth, embarrassed.

"Maybe it was," Minho murmured, squeezing his hands back. "Sorry I got all sensitive. I forgot you have a life outside of pining for me in the café."

"Mm, no I don't," Jisung mumbled, kissing the tops of his hands again and wishing he could crawl over the counter and kiss the elder, but he was finally starting to feel dizzy. Besides, he wasn’t sure if Minho was going to allow that to happen again. "And I told you not to apologize. _I'm_ sorry. I'd give you a hug, but, uh." He gestured to the counter, then to himself. "Kind of dizzy."

"How much did Felix serve you?" Minho sighed. "Also, you can hug me after my shift. Please."

"When do you get off? I might fall asleep by then, honestly, but I'll wait. Just make sure no one robs me."

"Uh, like two hours, I think? An hour and a half? Chan and Felix are driving me back. They can take you and Hyunjin, too, probably."

"Nah, Hyunjin's driving me," Jisung said, biting back a smile at the way Minho's eyes narrowed.

He had _no_ idea. It was kind of cute.

"No, I don't think he is," Minho muttered, then pointed across the bar. "Is that not him doing shots over there?"

Jisung turned his head, then groaned. "Shit, I guess it is. Okay. I guess his dumb ass will have to leave his car."

"I didn't realize you guys were so close."

"Well, we're—It's complicated."

"Oh, you don't have to explain. Sorry for prying."

Jisung sighed dramatically. "It's not _like_ that; you don't have to be so jealous. My barista song is one hundred percent about you."

Minho suddenly grinned, eyes lighting up. "So can I listen to it?"

"Don't take advantage of me when I'm intoxicated," Jisung scoffed. "No. Maybe. It sucks ass."

"Does not. Okay, I have to go. Try not to fall asleep. And don't kiss Hyunjin in front of me."

"I'm _not_ —ugh."

He yawned, then forced himself up and headed over to Hyunjin and his old men.

"Oh, is this your cute friend?"

Jisung blink at Hyunjin, who only shrugged. Well. He _did_ have a couple hours to kill.

"Of course I am!" he chirped, slapping on his flirtiest smile.

The next two hours were a blur. Jisung took more shots than he should have, and Minho sent more glares than he should have—both to Hyunjin _and_ the old men entertaining him and Jisung.

Finally, the group found themselves outside, Jisung clinging to Hyunjin for dear life with Chan and Felix on either side of the two to keep them from stumbling.

"God, what is happening?" Chan muttered under his breath. "I still can't believe you two..."

"Old water under the bridge, Channie," Jisung replied gruffly. "Where's Minho?"

" _Here_ ," Minho grumbled, walking beside Chan with crossed arms and a pout. "You never gave me my hug."

"He can hug you once his ass is in my car," Chan mumbled.

They arrived shortly after, Chan and Felix both letting out sighs of relief when the two slid into the backseat.

"I get the middle," Minho piped up, lunging over Jisung and almost aggressively squirming between him and Hyunjin.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm fucking Jeongin," Hyunjin complained, words slightly slurred.

"Whatever." Minho turned his body and leaned completely into Jisung, practically curling up at his side.

"Seatbelt, Min," Chan called.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"God, he's really crabby," Felix whispered. "Maybe I should've been giving _him_ the shots."

" _Hey_ ," Minho whined, then nuzzled into Jisung's neck, arms going around his waist. Jisung stopped breathing, feeling sober all of a sudden. He wrapped an arm around Minho's shoulders and tried to stop his heart from pounding when the elder pressed himself closer to his side.

"I hate third wheeling," Hyunjin announced.

"Too bad."

"Minho, stop being mean."

"Make me."

The car ride to Minho’s apartment was silent for the most part—it was a short drive, which had Jisung somewhat relieved, considering Minho probably _walked_ to work, though he hoped that wasn't the case. He thought of Minho walking home at ungodly hours of the night and tightened his arm around him.

"Warm," Minho hummed, breath tickling Jisung's skin. Jisung pressed a kiss to the top of his head without thought. "You have a fast heartbeat, Jisungie."

"No—No I don't," Jisung stammered.

"Uh huh. Just got faster."

"Min, we're here," Chan announced, and Minho groaned, tunneling himself into Jisung more and throwing a leg over the younger's lap to keep him from moving.

" _No_ ," he whined, burying his face in Jisung's chest. "Go away."

Jisung couldn't resist the fond smile that took over his face.

"Why are you acting more drunk than Jisung and his friend?" Felix mumbled.

"They're not friends," Minho hissed.

Jisung swallowed when he saw a car in the parking lot, the one that belonged to Minho's ex—the elder had glumly pointed it out when Jisung dropped him off the other day. Part of him wanted to beg Minho to come over again, stay far away from that piece of trash, but he did _not_ want him to witness Hungover Jisung.

"Get outta here," Chan said, turning back and giving Minho a lighthearted grin.

"Ugh." Minho slowly detached himself from Jisung, who missed his warmth immediately, then leaned forward toward the front seats, pressing an unprompted kiss to Chan's cheek and then Felix's. "Thanks for the ride, fuckers."

"No, seriously, is he sober?" Felix asked, but Minho ignored him and moved to Jisung, grabbing his face and kissing his forehead hard.

"You owe me a hug tomorrow."

"Sure thing." Jisung poked his cheek with a laugh, beyond endeared at how touchy Minho was, even in front of everyone.

"Do I get a kiss?" Hyunjin asked, puckering his lips as Minho crawled over his lap to exit the car, but Minho only flicked him on the forehead and muttered a _Screw you_. "Wow, rude!"

"No, _you_." Minho pointed a finger at him when he was on his feet. "You better stay off my Jisungie."

"For fuck's sake, Minho, I'm not—" _Slam_.

"He's gotta be drunk, right?" Felix whispered.

"Jeez, he's possessive," Hyunjin grumbled, scooting over and placing his head on Jisung's shoulder despite Minho's threat.

"Careful. Minho looks like he's about to kill you."

The last thing they saw as they pulled out of the parking lot was Minho's middle finger before he turned around and dashed toward the building's entrance.

"Jisung, don't punch me, but _please_ tell him. For my safety."

"I will," Jisung grumbled. "Someday."

"Uh huh." Hyunjin snuggled closer to him, and the position would’ve been weird as _fuck_ if they weren’t unhealthily intoxicated. "You guys have been cuter lately, though."

"Cuter?" Jisung squinted, head foggy despite Minho's cuddles making him several times more alert. "We were already cute."

"No, but like..." Hyunjin yawned. "You're getting your shit together. Kissing and shit. Holding hands."

"We already held hands. Also, you don't know that we kissed."

"There's a hickey on your neck. You're not fooling anybody. Just fuck already."

Jisung squirmed around at the thought.

"I'm serious," Hyunjin continued. "Worked wonders for me and Jeongin."

"No offense, Hyunjin, but if you make me picture you and Jeongin fucking one more time I might throw you out the window."

"Nobody told you to picture it, _perv_."

"Okay, okay. Let's get you both home in one piece," Chan called from the front seat. "But really, Ji. It’s nice to see you somewhat happy. That whole thing seriously took a toll on you. I didn’t think I’d ever see you smile again.”

Hyunjin flinched against Jisung’s shoulder as Chan spoke, and Jisung gritted his teeth.

“We get it,” he snapped. “I was sad as fuck. I’m fine now. Can you not do this when I’m drunk and the exact person he cheated on me with is cuddling me?”

“Sorry,” Hyunjin mumbled, lifting up from Jisung’s shoulder and scooting back to the other seat.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung groaned, then threw a glare at the back of Chan’s head.

“I’m just saying.” Chan frowned. “I mean, you still haven’t told Minho.”

“Why is everyone trying to drag Minho into this?” Jisung groaned. “He’s dealing with enough crap, okay? Besides, there’s nothing to tell. It was nearly a year ago—”

“Your boyfriend of _five years_ cheated on you, Jisung,” Chan said, raising his voice. “You don’t have to be fine, okay? That fucks a person up. Even after a year, even after ten years.”

Jisung fell silent, anger bubbling in his core, throat tight from the conversation, mind warped from the alcohol.

Then Hyunjin spoke. “... _Five years?”_ He turned to Jisung, face pale with horror.

“Oh, he didn’t mention it to you while he was fucking you in my bed?” Jisung grumbled, then winced at the way Hyunjin’s eyes filled with tears. “Hey, no, I was kidding. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Chan spoke up.

“I said it’s fucking _fine_ —”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his lower lip quivering. Suddenly, Jisung felt like _he_ was the one that had accidentally slept with someone’s boyfriend.

“Aw, come on.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved over to pull Hyunjin into an awkward hug. “Chan, look what you did.”

“I figured he would know,” Chan mumbled apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin said again, face buried in Jisung’s neck, and _fuck_ —He was seriously crying. “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t.” Jisung patted his head. "Don't cry, _shit_. We've already been through this, remember?" he tried to joke, thinking back on Hyunjin's tear-stricken face the day he watched Jisung break down, watched Chan nearly throttle his ex.

"That's so fucked up," he sniffled, shaking in Jisung's arms.

Lord. Jisung never could've anticipated _this_.

He sort of wished that piece of shit could see this right now.

"Please don't cry," Jisung groaned, patting Hyunjin's head some more. "God, screw you, Chan. I'm too fucking drunk for this." Hyunjin started to cry harder. "Fuck, no, don't cry. It's okay."

"It’s okay, Hyunjin. What building did you say you lived in?" Chan hummed as they neared the college campus.

"West," Hyunjin muttered weakly, wiping his face on Jisung's shirt.

"Hyunjin, what the hell?"

"Mm, sorry."

Felix turned around in the passenger seat and rubbed Hyunjin's arm. "Don't beat yourself up over this shit. It wasn't your fault, yeah? Channie's just horrible at communicating."

"I swear I didn't mean it like that!" Chan whined.

"I deserve it, probably," Hyunjin mumbled, wiping his face with his own hands now.

"Oh, shut up." Jisung squeezed Hyunjin's shoulders, sighing in relief when they approached the dorm building that Hyunjin resided in. "Thanks for bringing me tonight, by the way. Even though Minho's probably going to cook you alive tomorrow."

Hyunjin huffed. "Probably deserve that, too."

Jisung shoved him. "Shut _up_. Get your drunk ass some sleep, okay?"

"Sure thing.”

"Don't forget to get your car in the morning," Felix said gently. "Or you might go to prison."

"I'll have Jeongin bring me," Hyunjin said with a yawn, face still coated with tears. Jisung almost wanted to hug him again. "This entrance is fine."

"You need one of us to carry you in?" Jisung asked, but Hyunjin smiled softly and shook his head.

"Thanks for the ride," he murmured to Chan.

"No problem. It was nice seeing you, uh, again."

Jisung's face fell into his hands. He sighed.

"Goodnight, Hyunjin."

The moment Hyunjin was out of the car, Jisung leaned forward and swatted at the back of Chan's head.

" _Ow!"_

"The fuck is wrong with you? That was the most awkward experience of my life!"

"I'm sorry!" Chan said defensively. "I didn't think he'd _cry_."

"You're an ass," Jisung grumbled. "Stop acting like my dad, will you? You haven't seen me in _months_. I can take care of myself. I'm happy, okay?"

"I know you are. I can tell," Chan sighed. "But that doesn't take away from the fact that you were screwed over badly last year. And it doesn't mean you can't talk about it." He turned his head and gave Jisung a pointed look. “Especially with someone you’re trying to get with.”

"I'll tell him about it," Jisung said through gritted teeth. "Just not fucking _now_. God, we haven't even fucked—or been on a proper date, for that matter—plus, I can't even tell if he actually _likes_ me like that, or if he's just, I don't know. My emotional baggage can wait."

“Can’t wait forever, Ji.”

— ☕ —

Jisung awoke to a god-awful buzzing sound, hammering straight into his skull. He rolled over and groaned, bleary eyes blinking open and reaching for the source of the buzzing.

**10 Missed Texts**

“Shit,” he sighed, clicking on the most recent ones.

**Kim Seungmin:** hey i'm at the library

**Kim Seungmin:** uh. you on your way?

**Kim Seungmin:** HAN JISUNG

**Kim Seungmin:** k i'm going to my bf's i think you're asleep

**Kim Seungmin:** hey it's 5pm are you alive

**Kim Seungmin:** i'm getting worried here

**Kim Seungmin:** hello??

Ah, fuck. Jisung let out a miserable cry as he rubbed at his face to wake himself up. He'd been _way_ more hungover in the past, but still, sleeping all day and waking up with a massive headache wasn't ideal, nor was accidentally ditching his partner for his stupid fucking literature presentation.

**You:** i am so sorry

**You:** i accidentally went to a bar last night

**Kim Seungmin:** who goes to a bar on a wednesday

**Kim Seungmin:** and on accident

**You:** me

**You:** anyway i have a proposal

**Kim Seungmin:** listening

**You:** so i go to this café off campus

**You:** it's a good place to do work

**You:** i'll buy you a coffee and we can work there ? <3

**Kim Seungmin:** uh huh ~~~~

**Kim Seungmin:** r u just saying that cause your bf works there

Jisung almost tossed his phone across the room.

**You:** HUH?

**You:** HOW DO YOU KNOW MINHO

**You:** ps he's not my bf

**Kim Seungmin:** that's not what changbin said

**You:** CHANGBIN?

Fuck. That Changbin guy _had_ in fact been witness to the other night's antics.

**You:** you know changbin? damn

**Kim Seungmin:** ...

**Kim Seungmin:** he's literally my bf

**You:** OH? so you're who he writes his gay songs about

**Kim Seungmin:** his what

**Kim Seungmin:** he just told me he's going to strangle you

**Kim Seungmin:** anyway he said he'll drive me to the café

**You:** oops lol

**You:** give me like. an hour. i'm dead

**Kim Seungmin:** kk

Jisung sighed loud; the last thing he wanted to do right now was _coursework_ , but at least he’d get to see Minho. He swung his legs over the bed, on his way to shower, when he checked his remaining texts.

**Lee Minho:** you’re not coming today ?

**Lee Minho:** too hungover ?? :(

**Lee Minho:** i'm sorry if i upset you

His stomach sank. Fuck, Minho was over halfway through his shift already. It wasn’t as though Jisung was always able to make it, but he supposed it made sense for Minho to worry after the interesting events that unfolded at the bar.

**You:** no no no

**You:** i slept all day sorry omw soon

**You:** expecting my latte!! (jk pls don’t make me one)

Maybe he _did_ need to talk to Minho. But he wasn’t ready to think about that, especially not when his head was pounding and his skin was littered with nasty bar germs.

After a long shower, a bowl of ramen, and a pathetic attempt at looking presentable, Jisung was headed out for his car and on his way to the coffee shop, nerves eating at him a little more than usual. By the time he pulled in, his heart was racing just at the thought of seeing Minho. Especially after last night, after Minho had pouted at him countless times and cuddled into his side and threw possessive glares every which way. 

Minho made his head spin. Jisung liked him _so_ much.

And then he had to face poor _Hyunjin_ , who just about broke down in his arms on the car ride home. Bless his heart, but Jisung groaned at the thought of seeing _him_.

He swallowed nervously as he made his way to the entrance, hardly offering Seungmin and Changbin a wave before he turned to the counter.

"Hey, you," he called softly, smiling when Minho's head snapped toward him.

" _Jisungie_ ," he whined, opening his arms and beckoning Jisung over. "I thought you weren't coming."

"Sorry. I slept all day, hungover as fuck," Jisung explained as he approached the elder. "I texted you."

"It's okay." He kept his arms open and pouted. "Over here." When Jisung only paused with furrowed eyebrows, he received an offended glare. "You _owe_ me a _hug_."

"Oh." Jisung blushed, quietly laughing and heading behind the counter into the cashier area to let Minho pull him in for a hug. He was somewhat flustered at the public display of affection, but to be fair, the coffee shop’s staff and regulars were already well accustomed to their shameless flirting and occasional hand holding, and aside from that, Minho was so soft and so _warm_ in his arms.

"Missed you," the barista whispered in his ear, arms tightly curled around his neck. Jisung hid his face in his shoulder and squeezed his waist.

God. He liked him _so fucking much_.

"Why the hell is he back here?" asked Jeongin. "Come to take your job again?"

"Shut up," Minho growled, but he pulled back from the hug still. For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered down to Jisung's lips, and for the briefest moment, Jisung thought he was about to kiss him right in the middle of the coffee shop. But then the elder detached himself completely and gave Jisung a soft shove so he was no longer in the staff area. "Go do your project."

"How'd you know I have a project?"

"Those two random gay people told me," Minho answered, pointing to the table Seungmin and Changbin were at, the former glowering at Jisung, likely because he was at the counter flirting with Minho instead of starting their presentation. "Go on, I'll bring you a latte."

Jisung narrowed his eyes. "I'm not taking a free latte."

"I owe you, anyway. For those pancakes."

" _You're_ the one that made the pancakes."

"Just go," Minho whined, pushing him more.

"What's your deal?" Jisung muttered. He'd honestly expected Minho to keep him at the counter and cling to him for hours—which he would not mind in the slightest—but this was the total opposite.

"I don't have a deal. Shoo." He averted his eyes completely, and—Why the hell were his ears red?

"Hey," Jisung said with a grin, reaching out to hold Minho's hands. "You embarrassed or something?"

Minho met his eyes with a glare. " _No_ ," he huffed.

Jisung tipped his head back with a laugh. "Oh god, you are." He squeezed his hands. "You're adorable."

"Shut up. Do your fucking work."

Jisung bit his lip. Part of him wanted to kiss Minho's pink cheeks, make them even pinker.

But Seungmin's voice was ringing across the café, reminding him that they had an audience.

"Hurry the hell up!"

Jisung sighed. "I gotta go, _baby_ ," he murmured. His heart still did something dangerous every time he let the petname slip off his tongue, but it was worth the cardiac complications to see Minho's eyes sparkle shyly.

For once, Jisung found himself productive in the café, aside from the interruption of Minho bringing him his latte and holding his hand for a moment, both of them ignoring the disgusted noises Seungmin and Changbin made.

"I'm impressed, Jisung," Seungmin murmured about half an hour into their grueling project session. "Changbin told me all you ever do here is drool over your barista."

Jisung threw a glare in Changbin's direction. "What, do you stalk me or something?"

" _No_ ," Changbin protested. "It's just hard to ignore the pathetic amount of dick jokes you make when I'm trying to work on my shit."

Jisung opened and closed his mouth. _Was he really that loud?_

"I don't even wanna know," Seungmin sighed with a judgmental look. Jisung averted his eyes and stretched, allowing himself to glance over to the counter area. "Anyway, you're not so bad. Maybe if we keep going at this rate we'll be done by—"

He quickly drowned out Seungmin's words, eyes widening as he took in an unpleasant sight.

Hyunjin had arrived. He was standing by the counter mumbling to Jeongin, who was helping tie his apron and brushing the elder's hair out of his face.

Jisung didn’t like to be rude, but Hyunjin looked like _hell_.

_Did this have anything to do with last night?_

He tried not to jump to any conclusions. After all, it had been his first (and probably last) time drinking with Hyunjin. For all he knew, the elder could've simply been a lightweight with a horrible bounce back.

But he couldn't help but worry about him after how upset he'd been. Hell, he had almost seemed as upset as _Jisung_ had been.

"God, you're hopeless," spoke up Seungmin, flicking Jisung's arm. Jisung flinched, tearing his eyes away from the baristas. "Listen. If we can get, like, three more slides of this presentation done, I'll let you go make out with your barista friends. Changbin and I are going out for dinner, anyway."

That was good enough motivation for Jisung. As much as he wanted to go over and see what the hell was wrong with Hyunjin—and make Minho blush a few more times—he _did_ need to get shit done for once. So he did his best to avoid eye contact with Minho, who was brazenly staring at him from across the café, and avoid searching for the miserable-looking Hyunjin, wherever he had gone off to.

They were just about done with the second presentation slide when Jisung's focus broke again, interrupted by the sound of chaos in the staff area. He saw Minho dash behind the coffee-making equipment, where his view was obstructed, and immediately jumped to his feet.

"Oh, here we go," Changbin muttered, but Jisung was already darting over to the counter to investigate.

"Hey, you okay?" he heard Minho say.

Then Jeongin. "Sweetheart, you need to go home."

"No, I'm fine," came Hyunjin's voice, weak and sort of muffled. Jisung held his breath as he craned his neck over the counter to try and snoop.

"What's going on?" he asked, then gasped softly when he saw Hyunjin standing between the two other baristas, both of them holding him on his feet.

"Hyunjin basically toppled over just now," Jeongin said, arms wrapping protectively over Hyunjin's waist. "Baby, I swear, Minho and I can take it from here until the others show up." Hyunjin shook his head rapidly, but his eyes were hardly open. "Hyunjin, go the fuck home."

"Don't have my car," he mumbled. "My roommate dropped me here."

"You didn't get it from the bar yet?" Minho groaned. Hyunjin shook his head. He looked _fucking terrible_.

"Did you sleep?" Jisung asked, practically bent over the counter to keep his eyes on the trio.

Hyunjin met his eyes and slowly shook his head again. Jisung inhaled sharply.

"Is that... because of me?"

He hoped to god it wasn't, or he would have to strangle Chan.

"No," Hyunjin scoffed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "It's because of _me_."

Jisung cringed. He wasn't _really_ still on the whole self-blame shit, right?

"What's because of you?" Minho murmured, eyes flickering between the two.

"I—Nothing," Jisung sighed, trying not to let the hurt that flashed across Minho's face fog up his mind.

He knew he had to let Minho in on everything at _some_ point. But it wasn't time yet. He needed to take care of Minho first before opening his own can of worms.

"Can you call your roommate?" Jeongin asked. "Or maybe I can drive you, and Jisung can pretend to be a barista again—"

"I'll drive him," Jisung said. As awkward as things were with Hyunjin, he felt partially responsible for him right now, and he couldn't bear to let him go another day feeling guilty for something that was completely out of his control.

Seriously, it was getting annoying. And concerning.

"It's fine," Hyunjin whispered. "I can stay."

"No, you clearly can't," Jisung said, both impatient and guilty. "I need to talk to you, and you need to get your car and then knock out for a full day."

He felt Minho's confused eyes on him and avoided them as best as he could.

"Thanks, Jisung," Jeongin said with a sigh. He started to untie Hyunjin's apron; thankfully, the elder was steady on his own feet again. "Let me grab your shit, and you'll go with Jisung. Go get a cup of water or something."

Hyunjin mumbled something incoherent in response as he turned and headed further back into the staff-area.

Jisung let out a deep exhale, ready to go back and tell Seungmin and Changbin that he had to dip, but before he could, Minho was stepping up to the counter and taking his hands. Jisung reluctantly met his eyes.

"Why won't you tell me what's going on with you guys?" he whispered, and god, he sounded so _sad_ again. All Jisung wanted to do was take him back to his own place and cuddle on the couch and pretend nothing emotionally traumatic occurred almost a year ago. Minho bit his lip as he waited for Jisung to respond. He didn’t. "I won't—I won't be mad if you're, like—"

"I'm sorry," Jisung cut him off. "I can't talk about it. Not right now." Before he could be hypnotized by Minho's disheartened gaze, he broke eye contact and brought the barista's hands up to his mouth to kiss each one like he'd done the previous day. "I'll come pick you up after your shift so you don't have to walk, okay?"

"I'll walk."

"Don't be stupid," Jisung groaned. He squeezed Minho's hands and reluctantly let them go. "I'll be back."

Minho remained silent, so Jisung turned with a sigh and went back to his table where Seungmin and Changbin were warily watching him.

"Your baristas okay?" Changbin asked, no teasing lilt to his words this time.

"Not really. I offered to drive Hyunjin to get his car, since he basically just collapsed. Sorry, Seungmin."

"Nah, don't worry about it." Seungmin started to shut down his laptop. "I'm hungry, anyway. I'll text you next week if you wanna meet up again."

"Sounds good. Thanks, guys. Enjoy your food."

He packed his shit as quickly as possible, then met Hyunjin and Jeongin at the counter.

"Make sure he doesn't die," Jeongin joked, but there was undeniable concern seeping into his voice.

"I will," he promised, then looked over the younger's shoulder. "Minho, I'll be back when you're done, okay?"

No response. Sigh.

"He's in a weird mood," Jeongin explained.

"I know. Kind of my fault," Jisung murmured back, rubbing at his temple. "Okay, sleepyhead, let's get your ass out of here."

"You really don't have to take me," Hyunjin said quietly, but Jisung only groaned and tugged at his arm until they were headed for the door.

The awkward silence that fell over them as soon as they were outside of the coffee shop was _unbearable—_ a total contrast to the night before, when they had been giggling their drunk asses off together and practically dancing their way to Chan's car.

He cautiously watched Hyunjin move toward the passenger side of the car to make sure he wasn't going to fall over again, but he appeared to be in decent health, now. Just... pitiful looking.

Once they were buckled in and his car was started, Jisung sighed and sent a hesitant glance in his direction.

"Is this really about the five years shit, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin failed to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me," Jisung said. God, it was bordering on painful, but he _had_ to dissolve whatever awkward tension was between them and whatever feelings of guilt were tying Hyunjin down, and he had to do it _now_. "I don't really understand why—why you're hung up on this, Hyunjin. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was fucked over by that piece of shit. But I'm okay now, and I've been okay for months, and even if I wasn't, it had nothing to do with you—"

"My ex cheated on me," Hyunjin cut him off, and his voice was so quiet that Jisung thought he had misheard him.

"...What?"

Hyunjin bit his lip and turned to him with glassy eyes.

"Two years ago, when I left for college."

 _Fuck_.

Clearly, this was affecting Hyunjin a little more personally than he'd assumed.

"Shit," Jisung whispered, reaching over to wrap his hand around Hyunjin's arm comfortingly. "I'm sorry."

Hyunjin shook his head, a tear escaping his eye. Jisung rushed to wipe it away.

"I'm over it, too," he mumbled. "But it wrecked, me and—" He tipped his head back and pulled out of Jisung's grip to rub at his eyes with both hands. "We were only together for fucking _three_ months."

Jisung frowned. "So what? That doesn't make it any less fucked up."

Hyunjin hummed. "I just—I can't imagine." He paused to swallow. " _Five years_. If that had happened to me—"

"Listen," Jisung murmured. "It was fucking awful. We had been together since high school; I thought I was going to marry him. He was a bit of an ass, but I never expected something like that to happen."

Hyunjin sniffled, choking back a cry.

"But," Jisung continued, "I'm glad it happened." Hyunjin uncovered his face to narrow his eyes in confusion. "Because if it hadn't, I'd be stuck with an asshole who thinks it's okay to cheat on his boyfriend." He sighed, throat starting to tighten. "I mean, who's to say that you're the first person it happened with? Who fucking knows? Could’ve gone on for years, and I wouldn’t have known."

"I'm sorry," Hyunjin whimpered.

"No, don't be. I’m more than okay now," Jisung muttered, patting his arm. “And I didn’t realize anything like that happened to you. I’m sorry. Even if it was only a few months, it’s hard to move on from something like that. Trust me, I know it is.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve moved on, anyway,” Hyunjin mumbled with a head shake.

Jisung sighed, then shook his arm to grab his attention. “Can you repeat that?”

Hyunjin squinted.

“You’ve moved on. You’re okay,” Jisung said gently. “And so am I, alright? We’ve both been through that shit; we’re both here and in one piece. So stop feeling guilty for something that was out of your control, and stop apologizing to me and making this more awkward than it needs to be.”

"Okay," Hyunjin whispered, lower lip quivering. Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was so _pure_ , it was almost exhausting to witness.

"God, you cry a lot," he teased. "Come here." He leaned over and pulled the elder in for an awkwardly-angled hug. "I'm glad you have Jeongin, to fuck or date or whatever the hell you're doing."

"I'm glad you have Minho."

"Me too." Jisung tried not to let his cheeks flush as he pulled away and patted Hyunjin's knee. "Let's get your car before that bar has it towed, and then you're going to go home and knock out and never cry on my behalf again, okay?"

Hyunjin smiled shyly. "Okay."

— ☕ —

Jisung was beyond relieved to drop Hyunjin off at his car, relieved to have finally ridded them both of the lingering tension from their history. Maybe they could finally be proper friends. If Minho didn't bite Hyunjin's head off, that is.

Fuck. _Minho_.

He groaned under his breath as he drove back toward the coffee shop, remembering how moody Minho had been. He had hoped after their sentimental moment at the bar and the car-ride home, everything would be peachy once again, but Minho still seemed bitter to be out of the loop.

Jisung couldn't blame him. It still made him uneasy, though.

He'd tell him soon; really, he would. But he wanted to focus on Minho, first, while he gathered the courage.

Just as he was nearing the café, he spotted something that made his jaw drop. He slowed his car, staring in disbelief.

It was Minho. _Minho_ , walking down the sidewalk with his backpack.

_What the fuck?_

"Oh my fucking god," he muttered as he pulled over to where the barista was walking. Jisung had figured that he'd be close to the end of his shift, but he must've left early or something. Possibly to avoid Jisung, even, though the younger really hoped otherwise. He rolled down his window with a sigh. " _Lee Minho_."

Minho stiffened, then slowly twisted his body to face Jisung. He looked like a goddamn _deer_ caught in _headlights_. Jisung sighed again. "Minho, _what_ are you doing?"

"Walking home," Minho mumbled, glancing down at his feet.

"No you're not. Get in."

"No."

"Minho," Jisung groaned. "Come on, _please._ "

Minho bit the inside of his cheek and swayed on his feet.

"Minho. I'm not gonna leave until your ass is in my car." He instantly cringed at the irritation in his own voice and rushed to get rid of it. "It's getting dark out. Just let me drop you off, okay?"

Minho visibly sighed and made his way over to the car, still avoiding Jisung's eyes even after he was seated and buckled in.

"There we go," the younger said warmly, but the air between them was so unnaturally _cold_.

"Thank you," Minho whispered before turning to face the window. Jisung bit back a sigh. He couldn't be annoyed with Minho over this; he couldn't begin to imagine how confused he was.

But he couldn't explain to him just yet. He wasn't ready to.

Silence followed them for the entirety of the car ride. It wasn't too long of a drive, of course, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless, and Jisung was starting to believe that Minho would just leave without a word. Maybe that was for the best, though. He didn't think he'd be able to turn down the elder's sad eyes and pleading questions one more time.

Dread started to fill him from head to toe as he turned into the parking lot. He stilled his car by the entrance. "Have a good night, Min—"

Before he could finish speaking, he was startled by Minho whipping to face him, hands grabbing at his shirt and lips on his in an instant.

He gasped against Minho’s mouth, blinking rapidly, but when the elder's lips started to move, he let his eyes flutter shut. "Holy shit," he murmured as Minho tilted his head to the side and slipped his tongue inside Jisung's mouth, moving so fast his mouth could hardly keep up—never mind his _brain_ , never mind his out of control _heartbeat_.

“Closer,” Minho breathed.

"Holy _shit_ ," Jisung mumbled again, hands flying to Minho's waist as the elder suddenly released his seatbelt and started to clumsily crawl over the divider. " _Fuck_ , Minho." In the span of a second, Minho was settled in his lap, fingers threading tightly in the hair at the back of Jisung's head and teeth nipping at his lower lip.

Jisung would be lying if he said he had any complaints, but...

What the actual _fuck_ had brought this on?

His brain couldn't search for answers, though, not when Minho was detaching their mouths and leaving messy, wet kisses down Jisung's neck. Jisung almost laughed at the contrast to the other night on his couch, remembering Minho's soft and slow, sleep-filled movements—but any potential laugh died in his throat when the elder bit at the side of his throat, lips sucking at the skin, tongue swiping across it.

 _"Minho_ ," he whispered. He was staring to worry that he might—god forbid—pop a fucking _boner_ if Minho didn't calm down. Nonetheless, he made no attempt to stop him; instead, his hands moved to the elder's thighs and squeezed encouragingly. He was only human, after all; he'd burn in hell before putting an end to this.

Then, as though the entire universe was working against him, Minho started to grind down on him.

It wasn't too noticeable, just a subtle shifting of his hips, but it had Jisung choking out a surprised gasp. He gripped Minho's thighs tighter and clamped down on his lip while Minho sucked mercilessly at his neck.

Seriously, _what_ had gotten into him?

"Minho," he said again, but this time he grabbed Minho's face and guided it away from his neck. The elder looked into his eyes, face flushed and lower lip between his teeth. Jisung searched his eyes for some sort of answer. Clearly there was something going on here, something aside from unprompted horniness.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked softly, thumbs stroking at his cheeks. "Are you okay?"

Minho nodded his head rapidly, eyebrows furrowing as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. "Why?"

Jisung spluttered for a few seconds. "I mean—It's just—" He removed his hands from Minho's face and wrapped them around his waist. "Well, you seemed upset with me earlier, or just upset in general, maybe. Really upset. Not that you're not allowed to be upset, because you are." Minho dropped his gaze. "But, well, I mean... I thought you wanted to, you know, not do this sort of thing. For now."

Minho squeezed his eyes shut, face darkening with embarrassment. "Oh. You're right," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, no." Jisung hugged his waist tighter. "When I say stuff like that, it's just because I'm concerned, alright? I'd gladly make out with you until sunrise. I just need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Minho mumbled, fingers playing with the collar of Jisung's shirt. "Just feeling weird."

"Okay," Jisung said cautiously, rubbing circles into the sides of his waist. "Do you need to come over, or something?"

Minho's eyes flickered up to his, glistening with something that looked like guilt. He shook his head. "No, it's okay. You probably have shit to do. You had to ditch your project to, uh..."

Jisung hummed in understanding, though he still felt unsure about leaving.

"Go get some rest, then," Jisung said. "Promise you'll call me if you need to talk."

Minho nodded, and Jisung reached toward the passenger seat and grabbed the elder’s backpack for him. Once Minho had awkwardly climbed out of Jisung's lap onto the pavement, Jisung tugged at his arm and left a kiss on his cheek in an attempt to make up for anything he had said to potentially hurt his feelings. Minho smiled softly at the gesture, then pulled away and turned to head toward the entrance.

Jisung waited until he was out of sight to bang his head on his steering wheel. He hated how closed off Minho was acting, hated that _he_ was the one responsible for it. God, he almost wanted to call Chan.

So he did. Once he was back at his place, he flopped onto his bed and searched through his contacts. It had been ages since he'd called his friend, but he figured it was wise to at least _attempt_ to stay in contact now that they had caught up somewhat.

"Hello?"

Jisung froze.

"Um, _Felix?_ " His face started to heat up, mind jumping to the worst conclusion. "Um, where's Chan? Please tell me you guys aren't fuck—"

"Why would I answer the phone while we're having sex? Actually, don't answer that. I don't wanna hear about your weird kinks."

"I don't _have_ any weird kinks. Where's Chan?"

"Pissing. He'll be back in a minute."

"Okay," Jisung said, nervously shifting around on his bed.

"Why'd you call? Minho problems?"

" _Huh?"_ Jisung gasped. "How'd you know?"

"I mean, well..." Felix trailed off with a laugh. "Oh, he's back. Here, babe, Jisung's calling to cry about Minho."

"I am not—"

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi," Jisung greeted, rolling to his side.

"You're crying about Minho? What'd he do?"

"I'm not _crying_ , and he didn't do anything," Jisung said defensively. "Well, uh. I mean he _did_ , but... I don't know. God."

"What happened?"

"A lot of shit," Jisung sighed. "Hyunjin collapsed at work today. I guess he was guilty about, you know, or something. Anyway, I figured I needed to snap him out of it, so I drove him to go get his car—"

"He didn't get it earlier? Man, he's lucky it didn't get towed or—"

" _Quiet_ ," Jisung whined.

"Sorry, sorry, go on."

"So I talked to him, and he cried a lot, and I think we cleared everything up. But Minho... well, at the coffee shop he was acting weird. He asked me what was going on, but I couldn't tell him—"

"Couldn't or _wouldn't?"_

"Shut up. That's not the point."

"I think it _is_ the point."

"Just let me _talk_ , goddamn," Jisung groaned. "Anyway, he was kind of... off. He even tried to walk home instead of letting me drive him. But I threatened him so he got in."

"That's really nice, Ji." Jisung ignored the sarcasm.

"And he didn't talk to me the whole car ride home. But then when I went to drop him off, he—" His face _flamed_ at the memory; it hadn't even been half an hour prior. "He, like, got in my lap and shoved his tongue down my throat. Out of nowhere. He even started _grinding_ —"

"Okay, I got it," Chan cut him off. "So you refused to open up to him for the hundredth time, he got his feelings hurt, and then he got jealous because you've told everyone what's going on except for him. So he freaked out and threw himself at you because he thinks you want nothing to do with him, now."

" _What?"_ Jisung cried. "That—That's kind of a reach."

"What part of that was a reach?"

"I didn't tell everyone what's going on, for fuck's sake. Hyunjin knows because he was there, and the same goes for you. Felix knows because he's dating you, and Jeongin knows because Hyunjin told him."

"That's right," Chan said, "but Minho doesn't know all of that, does he?"

"Well, no."

"So you're mad at him for not knowing that everyone aside from him knows what's happening because they were directly involved or told by people other than you," Chan stated. "You're mad at him even though you've given him _no_ clue of what's going on—"

"Why are you so _mean?_ Also, I’m not _mad._ "

"I care about you, Jisung," Chan said, "and I care about him. I work with him, you know? I know how much he likes you. He probably thinks you don't trust him or don't like him enough to tell him what the fuck is going on. I mean, what's he supposed to think?"

"He's not supposed to think I'm fucking Hyunjin, for one."

Chan sighed. "Yeah, that one's kind of a reach. But when you like someone a lot and they're hiding shit, you kind of start to lose it."

"He doesn't like me a lot," Jisung argued.

"You said he shoved his tongue down your throat."

"Yeah, and _fuck_ , Chan. He... My neck is covered. He basically mauled me. Not that I'm complaining."

"Because he's probably jealous. You're being all weird and sneaky and shit."

Jisung gritted his teeth. "He—He keeps saying he doesn't wanna drag me into his shit—"

"At least he's told you that much," Chan said pointedly. "Besides, why should he be open with you when you aren't doing the same?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? First Hyunjin, now you—"

"Because it's true!" Chan practically yelled. Jisung jumped in surprise.

"Jeez, hyung."

“Sorry, sorry. But it seems like whatever is happening between you two is meant to happen. It’s good for you, you know? I don’t wanna see you fuck it up.” He paused for a moment. “...Sorry again.”

“You’re terrible at talking, you know that? Hyunjin bawled in my arms for a minimum of ten minutes earlier.” He was exaggerating, but he was annoyed enough to lie.

“ _That_ much?” Chan’s voice was half guilty, half amused.

“Mhm. We sorted things out, though. I felt bad, but we’re good now; _I’m_ good now, so you’d better tape your mouth shut if we happen to stumble into that bar again.”

“I will, I will. Speaking of, I have to get ready for work soon. Please be good to Minho, and be good to _yourself_." Jisung groaned. Damn Chan and his pep talks. "I know you keep saying his problems are the priority right now, but that doesn’t make yours any less important. If you ever plan on doing anything with him then it’s going to be a two-way street. Understand?”

“Uh huh. Bye, Chan.”

“Are you even listening—?”

Jisung hung up the phone before his friend could finish. He knew Chan was right; everyone was right. But he was too exhausted to think anymore, so he turned over and stuffed his face into his pillow, refusing to acknowledge it for the time being.

He wasn't sure how long he was napping for when his phone started to vibrate, forcing him back into consciousness. With a tired groan, he rolled around and searched around in the dark until he found his device, though he'd have preferred to go back to sleep.

"Fuck," he whispered. It was ten; he was probably going to be up all night— _Oh,_ fuck.

**1 Missed Call**

It was Minho.

Heart thumping in his ears, he dialed back with shaky fingers, mind hopping to every possible scenario. He'd told Minho to call him if he needed to talk, but what if something really bad happened? What if that asshole—

" _Han Jisung?"_

Jisung paused. Minho sounded... interesting.

"Minho. Are you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm great," Minho replied. "Never fucking better."

Oh, shit. He was drunk. Unquestionably drunk.

"Minho..." he said cautiously. He had _no_ idea what he was meant to do.

"You don't have to say anything," Minho mumbled, practically incoherent. God, how much had he drank? "Just wanna say sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" Jisung swallowed.

"Sorry for kissing you." Jisung opened his mouth to argue, but then Minho continued. "Like, I know you and Hyunjin are, y’know—"

" _No_ ," Jisung cut him off with a pained laugh. "We're really not. It's not like that—like, not at all. Do you really think I'd kiss you if that was a thing?"

"No, no, that's okay," Minho said quietly, and Jisung groaned under his breath. _Fuck_ , the elder was more or less a brick wall right now. "Mm, you deserve him, really. And he deserves you. I don't deserve anything."

Jisung felt his heart break. "That's not true. You deserve the world."

"Nuh uh. But that's okay. Love isn't real."

" _Minho_..." Jisung dragged a hand down his face. "That's not true, either."

There was suddenly noise. A loud voice, a disturbing voice.

" _Who the fuck are you talking to? Your café whore?"_

Jisung's blood iced over.

"Minho—" he started.

" _You bet I am, fucking asshole!"_ Minho shouted back. Jisung jolted, heart racing. What the hell was he listening to? Should he run to his car and speed over there? " _And you know what? He's way nicer than you, and—and I bet his dick is twice the size of yours!"_

Jisung gasped so hard he started to choke, nearly tumbling off the bed as he tried to clear his throat.

What the _fuck?_

He wanted to grin at the words, but he couldn't bring himself to, not while he was listening to that piece of shit yell God knows what to Minho; it seemed like the elder had dropped his phone or something, muffling the argument.

"Minho," he murmured, anxiously chewing on his lip. He winced at the sound of more yelling. _Jesus Christ_. He knew things were awful with the guy, but...

Did Minho go through this shit _every day?_

Then his heart dropped to the goddamn floor.

He heard Minho crying, crying loud.

" _Minho_ ," he yelled. "Fuck, pick up your phone."

Whether he had heard Jisung or not, Minho _did_ pick up the phone and start sniffling in Jisung's ear. " _God, why are you such an ass?"_ he cried, presumably at the piece of shit. " _Just fuck off for fucking once!"_

" _Why are you such a fucking baby? I'm just talking to you—_ " His ex's voice was muffled again.

"Hey, hey, Minho," Jisung murmured, anxiously. "Minho, baby, do you need me to come get you?" He didn't wait for Minho to answer; he was already jumping out of bed and headed out of his room. "Minho?"

"C-Can you?" Minho asked, voice strained. " _God, shut the fuck up!"_

"Hey," Jisung said. He didn't know what the hell Minho’s ex was saying now to warrant him screaming like that, but it was going to take everything in him to not burst in there and pummel the piece of shit. "Hey, I'm on my way. Can you go somewhere quiet to calm down?" He darted out of his apartment and headed for the exit, practically panting as he spoke.

"Might fall down the stairs," Minho whispered, but it sounded like he was on the move somewhere, which eased Jisung's nerves slightly.

"No stairs, then. What floor are you on? I'll come get you."

The five minute drive to Minho's apartment felt like the longest five minutes of Jisung's life. He kept his phone on speaker, but Minho was so incoherent it was hard to say much. All he could really do was make attempts at soothing him.

"I'm almost there, okay? Are you awake?"

"Mhm."

Jisung hung up when he reached the building and nearly broke off the entrance door as he bolted in there before flying up the first flight of stairs.

There he was. Curled on the ground and hugging his knees, eyes shut and hiccups escaping his throat, phone lying feet away from him. Jisung was both relieved and devastated.

"Baby," he breathed, crouching down in front of Minho. He swallowed hard and tried to stop tears from springing to his own eyes. "Hey, I'm here."

Minho's eyes instantly flew open. He pouted up at Jisung, more tears streaming down his face which Jisung quickly wiped away with his sleeves.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Shhh, come here." Jisung reached out and grunted as he grabbed the elder's phone and scooped him up. Minho continued to pout at him the entire time he moved down the stairs, lower lip between his teeth, but he didn't say anything until they reached the car and Jisung cautiously placed him down onto his feet.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry that—that I’m not the person you thought I was. I get upset a lot, and I cry too much when I’m mad, and—”

“Quiet.” Jisung kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re everything, Minho. I like you so much, you know that?”

“You do?” Minho looked _wasted_ , but his eyes still sparkled in the dark. He then looked down at the pavement and frowned. “But why? I’m so—”

"Stop it." Jisung grabbed his face and kissed his forehead, then pulled him in for a hug, desperately trying anything to stop Minho's tears. "I'm sorry you have to live with that fucking ass. God, I should storm in there and—"

" _No_ ," Minho sobbed out, shaking intensely in his arms. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Okay, I won't, shhh." Jisung squeezed him tight and opened the car door, guiding him until he was inside, and buckled his seatbelt for him.

"I know how to buckle a seatbelt," Minho mumbled.

Jisung smiled, pleased that, at the least, Minho had started to calm down.

"Well, I did it for you." He kissed the side of his head and closed the door, quickly heading back over to the driver's side.

Once he started the car, he reached over and took Minho's hand, bringing it to his lips. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Minho sighed, words slurred and voice sleepy. Jisung hummed and left him alone for the ride, but he didn't remove his hand from Minho's, letting the elder toy with his fingers to calm himself more.

"Can you walk?" he asked once he pulled into his apartment complex. Minho gave a tired nod, but Jisung rushed to help him get out of the car anyway.

"I said I can walk," Minho said, though he made no attempt to shake off Jisung's arm around him. "I'm tired."

"We'll get you to bed," Jisung promised, holding the door open and leading Minho inside with a hand on his back. Minho only nodded and reached for Jisung's hand, trailing behind him as they neared his apartment.

Despite his claim about being able to walk, Minho practically tripped trying to take off his shoes once they were inside.

"Easy," Jisung said with an endeared laugh. He scooped up Minho like he had before and ignored Minho's whine, carrying him to his room with ease.

"What about my couch?"

"I'm putting you in a real bed tonight."

Minho seemed too tired to argue, so he let Jisung place him down on the bed. Thankfully, he was in sweatpants and a hoodie this time.

"I'm gonna get you some water," Jisung whispered, but Minho grabbed his arms and whined to stop him from moving.

"Don't leave."

"I'll be back in a minute, babe, promise," Jisung whispered. He kissed Minho's forehead, gently easing the elder’s hands off of him so he could jog to the kitchen and grab a glass of water.

He took a minute to pause and rub his face. Honestly, he had no idea how to handle the situation, but he supposed getting Minho to sleep was the priority for now. They could deal with everything else in the morning.

"Here, sit up," he murmured once he was back at the bed and helped Minho into a sitting position so he could sip at the water.

"I'm not thirsty," he said after two sips.

"You will be tomorrow."

"Whatever," Minho sighed. He pushed the glass away. "Come cuddle."

Jisung bit his lip. "Are you sure?" He brushed Minho's hair back. Sure, cuddling was harmless, but when Minho was like this, and considering how upset he'd been with Jisung earlier...

"Please don't leave, yet." Minho's voice sounded so tiny, Jisung wouldn't have been able to leave even if the apartment was on fire.

"Okay, let me just—" He quickly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. Taking a nap in them had felt shitty enough; he sure as fuck wasn't going to bed in them. "Let me get some pajamas."

"No, come here," Minho croaked, grabbing Jisung's arm and tugging at it.

"Minho, come on, I don't even have pants on."

"You don't need them."

Jisung exhaled loud, face heating up. He shook his head. "Fine, but get under the covers."

Minho whined more as Jisung pulled down the covers, but Jisung somehow managed to get him under them and then slid in next to him. His heart started to pound abnormally, Minho instantly turning to his side and curling around him, one leg thrown over Jisung's waist, the other pushed between his thighs, practically intertwining their bodies. Jisung wrapped his arms around his torso and sighed.

He reached up one hand to run his fingers through Minho's hair. "You okay?"

"Mhm," Minho mumbled into his neck, hands playing with Jisung's hoodie and legs shifting around to tangle with Jisung's even more. "I was right."

"Right about what?"

"You _do_ have a bigger dick than him," Minho said with a yawn, then rubbed his face against Jisung's collarbone.

Jisung’s body stiffened and heated up all at once. "Fucking hell, Minho."

"Sorry," Minho whispered. He pressed a kiss against Jisung's skin. "Sleepy."

"Go to sleep."

Jisung rubbed at his back and played with his hair for a while, waiting until Minho stopped moving around and his breaths evened out to gently move him to lie on his back. He pulled up the covers more and dropped a kiss to the elder's head, then cautiously backed out of the room and grabbed a blanket out of his closet.

His brain was exploding with questions. The things Minho had said on the phone were... frightening to hear. He sounded so numb, so sure that Jisung didn't want him.

Jisung wanted him so fucking much.

He groaned quietly, tossing and turning on the couch for what felt like hours. Maybe he should've stayed cuddling with Minho, but he wasn't sure how the elder would react waking up hungover in his bed, never mind wrapped around a pantless Jisung.

Eventually, his exhausted body took over his exhausted brain, and he somehow found sleep, promising himself he would clear everything up with Minho as soon as possible.

He never wanted to hurt his feelings again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❝ And all the roads we have to walk are winding. And all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how. ❞


	3. Chapter 3

Jisung woke up warm. _So_ warm. _Too_ warm.

There was a weight on his chest, moving steadily against him, _breathing_. He startled, eyes flying open. There was a _person_ on top of him.

 _Minho_.

"What the—" He blinked rapidly; his hands were wound around Minho's waist, but he had no memory of putting them there nor of Minho being there in general.

The boy draped over him suddenly shifted, peering up at him with half-open eyes. "Awake?"

"Yeah," Jisung breathed, still alarmed. Minho was on top of him, curled around him like he was meant to be there. "How—What are you doing out here? Couldn't sleep?"

Minho shrugged and pressed his face against his neck. "You left me, so I came to find you."

Jisung huffed in amusement and hugged Minho tighter. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if it would freak you out to wake up hungover in bed with me."

Minho shrugged again and yawned. "... _I’m_ sorry. I'm so embarrassed."

"How much do you remember?" Jisung murmured, running one hand through Minho's messy hair before pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

"Too much," Minho groaned. "I'm sorry. You probably want me to leave."

"No, I don't," Jisung rushed, shifting so he could hold the elder more comfortably. He felt like every inch of his skin was on fire where it was pressed against Minho, but he would ignore that for the moment. "I wanna take care of you. I'm _gonna_ take care of you." When Minho didn't respond, he began to rub circles into his back. "Is it... always that bad?"

Minho squirmed around and tangled their legs. "Hmm, not usually. We were both drunk." He stopped talking to yawn again. "Also, he has to be packed in three days or something, so he's being annoying as hell."

"Oh." Jisung was elated to hear that the asshole would be gone in three days, elated that he and Minho would _finally_ possibly have a chance at doing whatever they were doing without interference. But he was still torn up about how _devastated_ Minho had appeared yesterday, not to mention just about everything he’d said to Jisung on the phone.

Minho suddenly made a face.

"What's the matter?" Jisung panicked, arms wrapping around him more tightly.

"I feel gross," he mumbled in response, moving to bury his face in Jisung's chest.

"Do you wanna take a shower?" Jisung asked, then stiffened. "I mean, uh—not with me or anything."

 _Fuck_.

Minho lifted his head and raised his eyebrows. Before Jisung could become too flustered, though, the elder pursed his lips. "Are you sure? I don't wanna be—"

"Hush." Jisung pressed a hand over his mouth and tried to ignore the way Minho's ears tinted. "I'm gonna go wash up real quick, and then you're gonna shower. I'll give you some clothes again."

Minho pouted but didn't argue, so Jisung gently rolled them both to the side and slid out from under him.

"My head hurts,” Minho whined under his breath.

“Stay here. I'll grab you more water." Jisung patted his head and left for the kitchen, ignoring the soft _It's okay_ directed at him.

He couldn’t focus for the entire duration of Minho’s shower. He fell back on his bed, rolled around a few times, groaned into his pillow, then groaned again because his pillow now smelled like Minho.

He was going to have to talk to him today, _seriously_ talk, before any other misunderstandings could occur and ruin what they had—or almost had. But it was going to be a painfully awkward conversation, and all he wanted to do at the moment was lie around and take care of Minho instead. Maybe kiss him again, if he didn't push him away or retreat to his classic _I don't wanna drag you into this_ bullshit.

Jisung was already in. He had been in since the first day of the fall semester, when Minho approached him at the coffee shop and offered a sample. Of course, he hadn’t known it back then. He hadn’t known that Minho would make him want to learn how to love someone again after five years of his life turned out to be a tragic, pathetic waste.

But he knew it now; he was sure of it. He wanted to re-learn more than anything, whenever Minho was ready to teach him. He had waited a long time, and he would continue to wait.

He knew damn well that he could treat Minho better than anyone ever had, but there was still an uncomfortably large part of him that felt like he didn't deserve the elder's time, accepted the possibility that he'd never _have_ his time.

As soon as the water stopped running Jisung’s nerves shot through the roof. He must've held his breath for the entire few minutes before Minho stepped into his room, because the moment he saw the elder standing in his doorway soaking wet with a towel around his waist, he nearly suffocated.

Or maybe that just had something to do with the fact that Minho was standing in his doorway soaking wet with a towel around his waist.

"Hi," the elder said, quiet. Jisung tore his eyes from his torso before his brain could even _start_ to go in the wrong direction. He incoherently choked out something along the lines of _Here you go_ as he tossed Minho the pair of sweatpants and long-sleeved shirt he'd picked out, then moved to dart from the room and give him privacy to change.

But before he could step out the door, he was halted with a hand wrapped around his wrist. He nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around to face Minho with wide, questioning eyes.

"Huh?"

Minho bit his lip, making Jisung’s nerves shoot up to the _moon_.

"You know, considering the amount of times you've implied that you wanna fuck me, you're kind of shy."

For a second, Jisung just stared. Was he _hallucinating?_

"Shut—Shut up."

"I _told_ you you were all bark, no bite."

"And I proved you _wrong_ ," Jisung whined, hoping to God his face didn't look like a fucking tomato. "Do I have to do it again?"

Minho smiled sweetly in response, sending a shock down Jisung's spine. What the fuck was he playing at?

Well. He clearly had no choice but to play back.

He pulled his wrist out of Minho's grip and stepped close enough to grab his face, appreciating the sight of his startled eyes and parted lips, before he leaned in and harshly connected their mouths, only to pull away just as the elder started to kiss back.

"Go put your clothes on," he said before Minho could rile him up more, before Minho could make him lose his shit and toss him on the bed like he wanted to but pretended he didn't. He gave him a light shove and then reluctantly tore his eyes away again to exit the room.

Minho looked so unbelievably _good_ dripping wet, lips shiny and skin flushed. But Jisung would have to revisit that image another time, a time when Minho wasn't hungover in his apartment and there was no painfully awkward conversation incoming.

He headed to the kitchen to start brewing some coffee, desperate to take his mind off of Minho in his towel, only to have his mind latch onto Minho in _his clothes_ when the elder appeared next to him a few minutes later.

"So big, I almost got lost," he mumbled as he attached himself to Jisung's back, wrapped his arms around his waist, and propped his chin on his shoulder. " _Jisungie_ , I don't feel well." 

Jisung couldn't see his face, but he could certainly imagine the pout on his lips. He quickly abandoned the coffee and spun around to take Minho's face into his hands. "Do you think you're gonna throw up?"

Minho shook his head. "No, I... I think I just need to lie down."

"Okay." Jisung relaxed slightly. "Let's get you back in bed, then."

"Will you cuddle?"

"Sure."

Sure he would. He would just have to stop his heart from clawing its way out of his chest, stop his brain from conjuring the image of Minho in his room, hand wrapped around his wrist, stop his lips from longing to reunite with the elder’s again.

Still, he wasn’t about to turn down a chance to cuddle with him.

He led Minho back to his room and pulled down the comforter to slip under it, then opened his arms and allowed the elder to crawl on top of him.

"Are you still tired?" he asked while he played with Minho's wet hair, smiling at the soft sigh the gesture evoked.

"No," Minho mumbled. His arms wrapped around Jisung's middle. "I lied."

Jisung squinted down at him. "Lied? About what?"

"I feel fine, except for my head." Minho tilted his face up and offered a guilty smile. "I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you."

" _What?"_ Jisung cried, shoving Minho off of him, but the elder only giggled and returned to him like a magnet. "God, you scared me. Also, you don't need an excuse to cuddle me."

"Yeah I do." Minho’s lips turned down. "You left me last night."

Jisung sighed and took one of his hands. "I mean, you were drunk. I didn't know if you actually wanted to sleep with me, or—" He stopped talking when he saw the look on Minho's face. "I didn't mean it like that! ...This time. God, when did you turn into me?"

Minho let out an deceptively innocent laugh before he went back to frowning. "But I _did_ mean it. I like cuddling you."

Jisung hummed and gently smoothed back Minho's hair as he psyched himself up to talk about the night before. He really, _really_ wanted to forget about it, and he was sure Minho felt similarly, but it would be better to tackle it before it could come back and haunt them. At least, that’s what Chan would say.

He took in a deep breath. "Do you remember what you said to me on the phone?"

"Um... kind of," Minho whispered, then moved to hide his face in Jisung's neck. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

As figured.

"Okay," he said carefully, "but let _me_ talk, at least." He inhaled again, unsure of where to start. He picked the easiest part of the conversation first. Goddamn _Hyunjin_. "You keep—I don't know if you’re kidding or if you _actually_ think there's some shit going on with me and Hyunjin—"

"I mean, there obviously is—" Minho's voice was muffled by his skin.

"Stop talking," Jisung cut him off. "There is, but it's not like that, like _at all_. Kind of the opposite, actually." He huffed out a pained laugh. "The point is: if you think I like him, or anything like that, you're out of your mind." He rubbed at Minho's back soothingly. "I just mean that—I mean, I think I've made it plenty clear how much I like you. There—There's nobody else. Literally no one has ever made me feel so... I don't know."

He cringed at the stretch of of silence. Fuck. _Fuck_.

But then Minho pulled away from his neck and peered up at him with a curious smile. "Do you really mean that?"

Jisung scoffed at the question. He roughly took ahold of Minho's shoulders and rattled him a little, making him yelp.

"Lee Minho, I've gone to your café every possible day since the fall semester started. That's what—like, _eight_ months? And in those eight months, I've dropped about two hundred pick-up lines—"

"It's actually about _five_ hundred—"

Jisung groaned, yanking Minho forward before he could finish his retort and messily pressed their mouths together. He let out a blissful sigh when the elder’s lips started to move against his but forced himself to pull back.

"Hang on, I need to clear this up. I can't let you be confused anymore. Cause it's hurting you, right?"

Minho chewed on his lip. "Finally gonna let me in on this secret everyone but me happens to know?"

Jisung closed his eyes and nodded slightly. "I can't—I don't really want to talk about it right now, not all of it. I'll tell you eventually, but it's just that you're dealing with enough shit right now."

"It's okay." Minho kissed his cheek reassuringly, but Jisung could sense the hurt lingering in his voice.

He forced his eyes back open and cupped Minho's face with one hand so he couldn't dip down to hide again.

"I'll tell you more about it sometime, when you're free from that piece of shit and we're, well, you know. I don’t know what I’m saying." He awkwardly cleared his throat. "But basically... something, something pretty bad, happened last summer, and well. Hyunjin was... directly involved, let's say. So was Chan. And Felix was a close friend of mine, so he knew about it, and Jeongin happened to find out through Hyunjin. That's really all there is to it."

Minho's eyes were wide, unblinking. "You knew Hyunjin... _last summer?"_

"Um, kind of. Not for long. Anyway, he's, well. It wasn't really resolved—the shit that we were involved in—so that's why I've been trying to mend things with him. Actually, shit has been really fucking awkward with us, at least up until this week. But it's over now, I think."

Minho continued to stare; Jisung figured he had about a million questions, questions the younger probably didn't even know how to answer.

"And... I don't want you to think I want anyone but you." Jisung pinched Minho’s cheek to distract him from what he’d just said, then added, "Or that Hyunjin wants anyone but _Jeongin_. He's, like, meeting his parents and everything. I guess it's serious."

"Oh?" Minho grinned, but averted his eyes with warm cheeks.

"Wait, wait," Jisung continued. "One more thing that you mentioned." He swallowed and tilted Minho's chin so he'd meet his eyes again. "Love is real, and you deserve it more than anyone I know. You deserve everything. Got it?"

Minho gazed at him wordlessly for several seconds, eyes glossing over like he was about to cry, but before Jisung could freak out and rush to comfort him, the elder was shifting on top of him and pressing their lips together again, fingers clutching his hoodie.

For once, there was no reason to stop him, so Jisung didn't attempt to in the slightest. Instead, he pulled him closer, hands finding their way to either side of Minho’s face while the elder moved to straddle him better, planting an elbow on the bed to keep himself steady while one hand snaked under Jisung's hoodie and made him gasp.

Kissing Minho had felt good every time it happened, but right now… It was perfect.

Not abrupt, nor sleepy, nor desperate, nor rushed. Just _perfect._

He didn't hesitate to suck Minho's lower lip between his and lick into his mouth, hands moving from his face to thread through his hair and pull on it. Minho whimpered quietly, letting Jisung guide their kisses, fingers dragging along his chest and leaving flames in their path.

As soon as they pulled back for air, Minho attached his lips to Jisung's neck, kissing over the marks he had made the previous day. Jisung huffed out a laugh at the memory and tightened his fingers in Minho's hair.

"What's so funny?" Minho grumbled against his neck, then gasped when Jisung pulled his head away and flipped them over so he was draped on top of Minho. He smiled at the elder's wide eyes, using a hand to cup his jaw and peck his lips.

"You've given me way too many hickeys lately."

Minho's ears reddened. "Sorry—"

Jisung dove down to cut off his apology, lips meeting the soft skin above Minho's collarbone and kissing across it before nipping at a random spot. Minho choked out a gasp and grabbed Jisung's shoulders, squirming slightly as the younger left more kisses and sucked hard right at the base of his neck.

"Fucking—Fuck," Minho breathed. Jisung laughed against his skin and kissed below his ear, sucking and licking over every spot available.

He was just about done, tugging Minho's hair again to pull his head back and give himself access to the underside of his jaw, when Minho's body shifted, or his hips, or _something_ , and then suddenly his crotch was pressed up against Jisung's thigh, and Jisung’s heart was stopping.

Jisung froze, then quickly moved off of Minho and pulled him into his lap instead when the elder’s eyes widened in horror.

"Sorry," Minho whispered, sheepish, but Jisung shook his head and pulled him in for a long kiss. He held his hips gently, thumbs rubbing into his hipbones.

"You're adorable," he mumbled, going back to kissing him until they were both breathless. He sucked at Minho’s tongue while his hands slid up under the elder's shirt, his fingers experimentally brushing over his nipples.

Minho lunged forward at the touch, breath hitching. For a few moments, the two just panted against each other's lips, Minho letting out a quiet whine when Jisung's fingers continued to lightly explore his chest.

" _Fuck_ ," Minho swore, hips jerking forward again. Jisung watched him questioningly, trying to gauge if his movements were intentional or not, but the elder refused to make eye contact, so he moved his hands to his waist and gently shifted his _own_ hips forward.

Minho _jolted_ , a choked whimper falling from his lips, face pressed tightly against Jisung's chest and arms looped around his neck. More muffled noises escaped his lips as their hips started to just barely rock together. It was taking everything, _everything_ in Jisung to not push him down and make him fall apart.

"Don't hide from me," he teased, removing a hand from Minho's waist to pull his head back like before. The elder connected their lips with a whine, breaths uneven as Jisung tried to guide his hips better. Before long, though, Minho was pulling away from the kiss, clearly overwhelmed and more flustered than Jisung had ever seen him.

Jisung bit back a smile and kissed down his neck, the side he hadn't marked up as much, and sucked right below his ear, body tensing when the elder breathed out a quiet moan.

"Fuck, Minho," he gritted out and left more messy kisses, fingers digging into his waist and heart racing with every slight movement of Minho's hips.

He could feel his soul begin to depart his body.

"W-Wait," Minho said quietly, and Jisung practically tossed him from his lap, face flooding with concern and soul being yanked straight back inside.

Had he... read things wrong?

"Shit, are you okay?" he whispered, any beginnings of a boner abruptly fleeing at the thought of freaking Minho out. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

" _No!"_ Minho cried, quickly moving closer to Jisung again so he could cup his face. "No, no. I would love to get in your pants—" He shoved at Jisung's chest when the younger failed to hold back a grin. "But, um." He looked down and chewed on his lip. "I don't deserve it, and my head really hurts. Plus, I'm scared I might explode."

Jisung relaxed, worries temporarily dissolving, though his heart stung at the first few words. He kissed Minho softly. "You do deserve it." Kissed him again. "But let's get some food in you. Let me take you out to breakfast."

Minho timidly met his eyes. “No, you don't have to do that.”

"Minho, for the love of God," Jisung sighed, kissing him one last time before moving him off his lap so they could both stand. "I mean this in the nicest way possible: _Shut the fuck up_."

" _Fine_ ," Minho scoffed. He crossed his arms, then squealed when Jisung suddenly grabbed him at the waist and tossed him over his shoulder. "Hey!" His hands bunched up in the back of the younger’s hoodie, but he made no move to get out of his grip as Jisung carried him out of his room and across the apartment. "Wait, wait! What about my phone?"

Jisung groaned and put him down. "Okay, go get your phone." He boldly slapped Minho's ass to get him to move then laughed when the elder shrieked.

"There goes my shy boy," Minho mumbled under his breath, neck flushed, and Jisung only laughed harder.

"I'll destroy you," he called in the most casual tone possible, grinning when Minho's hands flew to cover his face as he ran off to Jisung's room.

Despite his confident talk, Jisung bit down on his hand the second Minho was gone and stifled a scream.

He had just—Minho had just—They had nearly—

He felt like he was going to faint. Though he didn't want to admit it, Minho had made a valid point earlier. He could make crude remarks all day long, but when it came down to it, he'd probably die if they ever...

All of a sudden, Minho jumped on his back, startling him and making him cry out.

"So _now_ you wanna be carried?" Jisung grumbled, pushing him off so they could put on their shoes but let the elder climb back on the moment they were ready to go. Minho wrapped around him tightly, giggling the whole way down the hallway to the exit. Jisung hated the way it made his insides feel funny. Fuck. He was _fucked_.

And he had no complaints about it whatsoever.

He almost drove off the street numerous times on the way to the random breakfast place Minho had picked out; the quality of his driving decreased tremendously with Minho holding his hand and sporadically leaning over to kiss his neck. 

Eventually, though, they made it there alive and found themselves sitting at an outside table, Jisung’s hands holding onto Minho's to keep them warm in the spring breeze.

The universe must’ve gotten bored watching things go so smoothly for the two, so it decided that it was a decent time to humiliate Jisung again.

When their waitress came over to get their drink orders, Jisung instantly went for his favorite iced americano without thinking it through. Then, as soon as the waitress disappeared, Minho leaned forward and squinted at him.

Jisung gave him a confused look in return. "What?"

"Iced americano?" Minho raised an eyebrow. "What about your latte?"

He stiffened.

Right. Minho had absolutely no idea that he didn't _actually_ care for lattes all that much.

"Um, well—" He wracked his empty brain for an explanation. "I dunno, I just like your lattes better." He offered what he hoped was a convincing smile.

Minho squinted harder. "So why are you _blushing?"_

Jisung groaned, face falling into his hands.

"I don't like lattes," he mumbled after a moment, figuring he may as well let the cat out of the bag. Minho knew how whipped he was by this point, anyway.

" _Excuse_ me?"

Jisung reluctantly removed his face from his hands and grabbed Minho's again. "No, listen, yours are good. Really, they are."

"Why the hell do you _order_ them?" Minho cried with an incredulous laugh. “ _Every_ fucking _day?”_

"Well..." Jisung looked away. "I started cause, uh. They take longer to make."

"Huh?"

"They take longer to make than the other drinks, or at least I think they do."

"So? That doesn't answer my—"

"I _ordered_ them so I could spend more time with you," he gritted out, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible. Minho blinked a few times before his eyes slowly widened in what appeared to be a mixture of realization and be pure _amusement_. "Like, you know. Whenever I started doing that, it was… so I could talk to you a little longer."

"You started doing that the _second week_ I worked there!" Minho giggled. "You're obsessed with me, huh?"

" _Hey_ ," Jisung snapped, face hot. "Why the hell do you know the exact time I started ordering them? I think _you're_ obsessed with _me._ "

"Well—Whatever," Minho huffed. They quieted their argument when the waitress appeared again with their drinks and proceeded to civilly order their food.

They were silent for a while after that, but the air between them wasn't awkward in the slightest. Honestly, it was the most pleasant and refreshing it'd been all week.

Jisung was taking the first bite of his waffle when Minho suddenly broke the silence with an unexpected: "Is this a date?"

The younger nearly spit his food out, mind faltering as he tried to process the four words.

 _Was_ it?

"Uh, I mean—" Jisung cleared his throat after he swallowed, then reached for his iced coffee. "Do you... want it to be one?"

Minho pursed his lips for a moment, staring at Jisung as if he was analyzing him while he tried to come to a conclusion. He then nodded.

 _Nodded_.

Jisung took a long sip of his drink, trying to hide his surprise, not to mention his indescribable _glee_.

"Okay," he breathed, smiling into the cup. "It's a date, then."

Date. A _date_.

He was on a _date_ with _Minho_.

Fucking _finally_.

Luckily, there were no more instances of Minho giving Jisung heart complications for the rest of the morning, aside from the occasional impromptu kiss on the cheek. They didn't kiss on the lips again while they were out, and Jisung didn't have to wonder why.

They were a hell of a lot closer to being something than they had been a few days ago, but the lines were still slightly blurred. Minho still needed to get rid of the pest in his apartment, and there were still conversations to be had before whatever this was left the walls of Jisung's apartment—or his car.

But _god_ were they close. They were within _reach_.

Jisung reluctantly dropped Minho at his apartment after they had gone back to his place, made out a little more, then grabbed Minho's dirty clothes to bring home. He honestly wanted to move Minho into his own apartment until the asshole was moved out, but the elder had promised he would be fine and their interactions would stay to a minimum, considering his ex was too preoccupied packing his shit to be an asshole. Minho had a bar shift later, anyway, which Chan was picking him up for.

Jisung could only hope Chan wouldn’t say anything about him.

He dwelled in his apartment for the majority of the day, opting to get shit done in his workspace; if he went to his bed, he would either feel the traces of Minho and lose his mind or grow tempted to take a nap.

He managed to get some of his piled up schoolwork out of the way and tweak a few tracks, but as always, it was hard to focus with his barista (or _bartender_ , at the present) taking up most of the space in his mind. He was just about to close out of his songs folder when something caught his eye.

 _barista track_.

Jisung's face flushed as he remembered how embarrassed he had been the other day when Minho first discovered the track. He had never planned on showing it to him, never planned on even listening to it again _himself_ , but suddenly his fingers were itching to click on the file, so he did.

With a loud sigh, he folded his arms on his desk and rested his head on top of them, eyes fluttering shut as the track began to play. It was a two minute instrumental, softer and more soothing than some of his faster paced songs. Hell, it could've lulled him to sleep if his heart rate wasn't rapidly increasing at the thoughts of Minho.

Minho, Minho, _Minho_.

If he traveled back to the night he had drunkenly conceived the track and told himself where he and Minho stood now, old Jisung would've blacked out on the spot. _Current_ Jisung nearly blacked out on the spot, whenever it crossed his mind.

He and Minho had been walking on some sort of line for a while now. And after he came out of his relationship, that line moved somewhere between playful flirting and, well, _feelings_.

They seemed to be crossing that line now, or so he thought. But they still had a ways to go—and Jisung had no plans of thinking too hard about what other lines they would cross until it was time, lest he drove himself mad.

After listening to the track twice, which genuinely wasn't too bad aside from the fact that it made his stomach twist into knots, he gave into his urges and went to work. There was only so much he could do while drunk, so he spent a decent amount of time cleaning up what he already had and adding more. After all, his feelings had definitely evolved over the past few months, then increased _exponentially_ over the past few days.

He always tended to lose track of time whenever he was sucked into his work, so by the time he saved and renamed the file _bartender track_ —laughing his ass off as he did—he was ready to eat dinner and spend the rest of his night watching TV and temporarily fading out of existence.

As he was falling asleep on his couch—the couch that seemed to remind him of a certain someone every time he sat on it now—he considered calling that certain someone and checking up on him, seeing whether he was back from work yet. But he figured it would be nice to give the elder some space if he needed it, and besides, he was way too tired to talk—

Suddenly, his phone started to buzz, stopping his eyes from fluttering shut all the way.

With a groan, he forced himself to check and see who it was, then jumped up from the couch.

 _Minho_ was calling _him_.

"Hello?" He’d answered immediately; with last night’s situation still haunting him, he trembled the second he heard Minho breathing at the other side of the line. "Minho?"

"Hi," came Minho's soft voice. He didn't sound like he was drunk or crying or anything, so Jisung relaxed his shoulders. "Um..."

"What's up?" Jisung encouraged, pacing in front of the TV.

"I'm sorry—You can say no, or say you're busy or something," Minho started. "And I know it's late. Fuck, you were probably gonna sleep—"

"No, no," Jisung hushed him. "Go on."

It was silent for a moment.

"Would it be okay if I came over?"

Jisung blinked in surprise.

“Of course," he whispered. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

It went silent again.

"Um, nothing's wrong," Minho mumbled, sounding unnaturally shy. "I just kind of... wanna be around you." Jisung inhaled sharply, and the elder must've heard, because he quickly muttered, "Fuck, sorry; this is probably out of line."

Jisung laughed out loud.

Even after everything, Minho still seemed unable to grasp how fucking _gone_ Jisung was for him.

“ _Minho_ ,” he said slowly. “I don't think you understand how much I enjoy being in your presence. I can be there in five. Do you wanna stay the night? Why don't you pack some shit so you can stop stealing mine?" When Minho started to whine in embarrassment, he giggled. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I love when you wear my clothes—uh, anyway. Does that sound okay?"

He heard Minho swallow loud at the other end of the line. His voice almost came through silent. "I don't deserve you.”

"Shut your mouth," Jisung said, though his tone was gentle. "I'll be there soon."

Minho was already waiting outside when he pulled in, backpack in hand. Jisung couldn't hold back the smile on his face when he realized the elder was wearing the shirt he’d given him earlier.

"What are you smirking about?" Minho asked, eyes narrowing once he settled into the passenger seat.

"Nothing, I just think it's cute that you have my shirt on again," he mumbled, taking Minho's hand and pressing a kiss to the top of it, unsure if he was allowed to kiss him on the mouth or not.

Minho soon answered that question, yanking Jisung forward by the wrist and pressing a hard but brief kiss to his lips. He then pulled away and scowled. "Sorry, want me to take it off?" He released Jisung’s wrist and reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it up.

"Hey, _no!"_ Jisung laughed, grabbing at him to pull his shirt back down. "Not in public, jeez." He took Minho's hand again and squeezed it. "Maybe later."

"I'll hold you to that.”

Jisung figured it would be wise to push those words to the back of his head and focus on driving safely for the moment, so he laced his fingers with Minho’s and changed the subject as he started down the street. "How was work? Did you eat? Do you want anything?"

"Kind of want coffee," Minho murmured with a yawn.

Jisung laughed. "This late?"

"You say that like you don't stay at the café till closing most weekends."

Jisung couldn't argue with facts.

"Fine, fine. Let's go. Maybe we can piss Jeongin off."

Minho hummed contentedly as they headed down toward where the coffee shop was located. It would be weird to walk in _with_ Minho instead of walking in to _see_ Minho, but it was definitely a good kind of weird.

It solidified the fact that whatever feelings had sprouted in there outgrew the small café. It made them feel like less of a barista and a regular and more like a... _thing_.

They separated their hands to get out of the car, but Minho instantly connected them again the moment they started walking to the entrance. It was such a small gesture compared to the fact that he was more or less grinding on Jisung’s thigh earlier, but it still made the younger’s heart stutter in his chest.

He was already a little nervous to appear in front of Hyunjin or Jeongin or whoever was on shift, hand in hand with Minho like they were some sort of couple, but those nerves managed to _double_ once they entered the café and bumped into a few more than just Hyunjin and Jeongin.

" _Huh?"_ Minho and Jisung both spoke at the same time, eyes locking with Chan and Felix, who stood at the counter with coffees in hand, talking to the two baristas.

"Oh?" Chan grinned. "Look who it is."

"The hell are you doing here?" Jisung whined, trailing behind Minho.

"We wanted to see what the hype was," Felix explained, and he was doing a _horrible_ job holding back a smile as his eyes flickered between the two that had just arrived. Jisung saw Minho avert his eyes from the bunch, and holy _fuck_ , he was _completely_ flushed.

"Too bad Minho couldn't come with us, huh?" Chan asked in a pointed tone. Jisung looked to the elder, who was practically _hiding_ , head ducked. "Thought you wanted to _go to bed?"_

Slowly, the rose creeping up Minho's neck started to make sense.

Chan and Felix must’ve asked Minho if he wanted to go to the café after their bar shift ended, and he must’ve turned them down to _go to bed_. Then ended up going with _Jisung_.

"He was waiting for _me_ ," Jisung tried in an attempt to lessen Minho's embarrassment, but the elder glared and separated their hands to shove him. " _Hey_ , what the hell? I was trying to defend you!"

"Fucking gay people," Jeongin muttered.

"Tell me about it," spoke up a voice. Jisung looked over to see Changbin approaching the counter, Seungmin tailing him. God, was the _entire planet_ at the coffee shop right now?

"You're in no place to judge," Minho told the couple with a squint. "You people practically _defiled_ this place the other day."

"That didn't happen," Seungmin said quickly.

"No, it didn't," Changbin backed him up. "Whatever, I'm just glad I can finally stop having to watch you guys drool over each other from across the café now."

"Who said that was gonna stop?" Jisung snickered. Another shove from Minho.

"Is anyone gonna order?" Hyunjin asked. "I kind of wanna go home."

"Go home or get wasted with a bunch of sugar daddies again?" Felix giggled.

" _Go home_ ," Jeongin answered in Hyunjin’s place. "Okay, but seriously, order something or get out."

"I want a free refill," Changbin announced, holding out his empty cup.

"No way," Hyunjin said. "You only get those if you're Jisung, and if Minho's the one serving."

"Shut up!" Minho cried.

"I literally did your calc homework for you all fucking semester," Seungmin argued. "The least you can do is give my boyfriend his coffee."

Jisung shyly hugged Minho from behind while they watched everyone bicker in front of them. _God_ , for someone who had spent almost a year feeling alone, Jisung had quite a few friends. 

He squeezed his arms around Minho's middle tightly and pressed his face against the elder's back to hide a smile.

Finally, the refill crisis was dealt with and Minho and Jisung were able to get over to the baristas uninterrupted.

"How does it feel to be on the same side of the counter?" Hyunjin asked. He was practically _beaming_ at them; it made Jisung want to whack Minho on the head for ever thinking Hyunjin wanted anything to do with him. Hell, he was basically their number one fan.

"They've already been on the same side of the counter," Jeongin pointed out. "You know, when Jisung took over Minho’s job and all."

"What?" spoke up an employee from behind them, one whose name Jisung didn't know.

" _Nothing_ ," the two baristas said quickly.

"Anyway, what do you want?" Jeongin asked.

"Two iced americanos," Minho said. Jisung raised his eyebrows in surprise, face heating up when he remembered that he’d just told Minho about how he was, well, _less_ enthusiastic about lattes than he appeared.

"Switching it up?" Hyunjin smiled as he put the order into the computer.

"Jisung hates lattes," Minho muttered bitterly.

"I don't _hate_ them," Jisung argued. Before Minho could elaborate on the story, he reached for his wallet in the pocket of his jacket. "How much?"

"No, me." Minho slapped his hand away and started to unzip his backpack. "I'm paying."

Jisung pushed Minho’s hands away in retaliation. "No, _me_. I'm rich, remember?"

"No, you're just a _sugar baby_ —"

"The fuck?" Jeongin mumbled. "Forget it; just take them."

"We're losing a lot of revenue tonight," Hyunjin joked.

"Yeah, but they're the type of couple to spend hours at the counter arguing over who's going to pay."

Jisung's heart stopped. _Couple_.

He felt Minho tense beside him; he could only hope it was in a good way.

They telepathically agreed to not linger too long after they got their drinks—and a piece of cheesecake that they'd viciously threatened politely asked the baristas to give them—quickly offering their goodbyes to everyone and ignoring the cryptic chorus of _Have fun_ s directed at them as they went for the exit.

"That was embarrassing," Minho grumbled, sticking close to Jisung's side as they headed back to the car.

"Maybe for _you_ ," Jisung teased, then ducked out of the way when Minho tried to hit him with the box containing the cheesecake. The younger laughed the whole time he was buckling himself in, then ducked again when Minho freed his hands and shoved him.

"Shut up," the elder hissed. "I already _told_ you I wanted to spend time with you."

"Enough to lie to Chan and Felix?" Jisung cackled.

"You ordered lattes every day for eight months _just_ to talk to me."

"Hey!" Jisung shook him off and started his car.

"I'm just saying." Minho grabbed his hand as he started to pull out—Jisung was going to be _very_ advanced in the art of one-handed driving soon. "We're even."

"Even," Jisung murmured with a nod. They were even.

Except they _weren't even_. He had involved himself in Minho's life, weaseled his way into his deepest problems, seen him at his lowest points, yet had hardly given him a _glimpse_ of his own, save for the vague explanation he’d finally offered up earlier.

He was going to, though; he had to. They _needed_ to be even. After going on that date earlier, after walking into the café hand in hand, after hearing Jeongin call them a couple, Jisung was more than ready to make Minho his, if Minho ever planned on letting him.

But for now, they would enjoy their iced coffee and cheesecake.

They ended up on Jisung's beloved couch, one of Minho's legs thrown across his lap as they shared the small slice.

"This is barely anything," Minho complained around a bite.

"It's fine. I'm not that hungry," Jisung said, pushing the box onto Minho's lap despite the fact that he would normally go to hell and back for a slice of cheesecake.

Minho scowled and shook his head at Jisung's selflessness, then dug the spoon into the slice and brought it up to Jisung's mouth.

Jisung hummed, caught off-guard, but shyly accepted the bite before he grabbed the spoon to reciprocate. It was so disturbingly _intimate_ , it made his stomach twist.

"I think," Minho said after Jisung fed him the last bite, "this is the gayest bullshit we've ever done."

Jisung burst out laughing, eyes dropping to Minho's lips while the elder licked them clean.

"What about this?" he asked. He leaned in and kissed Minho before he could process the question, licking into his mouth to taste the remains of the whipped cream that topped the dessert.

Minho tensed at first, then slowly kissed him in return, the hand that wasn't holding onto the empty box reaching up to cup the back of Jisung's neck.

"Well, that's pretty gay, too," he whispered once they parted, eyes starry. Jisung wanted to lean in again, press him into the couch and kiss him a hundred more times, whisper all his secrets against his lips.

Instead, he pulled away and took the box from Minho's lap to place on the coffee table beside their iced drinks.

"I know we, like—We keep doing, you know, stuff," he said, squeezing Minho's leg that was draped over his thighs. "But if I'm being too forward, or pushing too much—"

"No," Minho said, both hands moving to cup his face. "You're not, trust me."

"Okay," Jisung whispered, smiling shyly. He tugged at the hem of his shirt that Minho was wearing. "Did you bring other clothes, or are you gonna sleep in my shirt?"

Translation: _Please sleep in my shirt_.

"I brought other clothes," Minho murmured, and Jisung swore the elder could detect the disappointment in his eyes. "...But I think I'll stay in this, since it gets your dick hard or whatever."

Jisung's eyes bulged. " _Wha_ —"

Minho giggled at his reaction and leaned forward to kiss him. "You've told me about three times this week that you like seeing me in your clothes."

"Well."

He was absolutely right.

Jisung grabbed the box one they both stood. "Do you wanna go lie down?" he asked, giving Minho a gentle push toward his room. It was relatively late, but then again, they would most likely be up late thanks to the fresh caffeine in their systems.

"Sure, but you can't leave me this time," Minho said, throwing him a bitter look.

"I won't," Jisung huffed as he disposed of the box in the nearest trash can. "I'm gonna shower first, though."

"Can I go explore?" Minho asked, smiling mischievously. "I wanna find your body bag."

"God," Jisung sighed. "Sure. Actually, let me show you my workspace." He suddenly remembered the hours he'd spent in there earlier, working on tracks. "I, um... Come here."

He pulled Minho along toward the office and offered him his desk chair as he started up his laptop.

"So, I, uh..." He tapped his fingers against the mousepad as he waited for his desktop to load. "I was working on some stuff earlier."

"Oh?" Minho blinked up at him curiously.

"The barista track," Jisung blurted, face heating up. "I worked on the barista track. Like, added shit and whatnot. And did some technical stuff. If you wanna, um..."

Minho's lips parted, and he tugged on Jisung's sleeve to force the younger to look him in the eye.

"You're letting me listen to your Hyunjin song?"

"Oh, shut up," Jisung groaned, nervousness suddenly replaced with exasperation. He connected his headphones to the laptop and handed them to Minho. "Here."

Minho bit his lip and scanned the folder of audio files. "It's not here."

"Huh? No, I just changed the name." Jisung scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly as he remembered how amused he was with himself earlier. "Alright, I'm going to shower." He dashed out of the room before Minho could spot the file.

Jisung knew he wasn't bad at music, and even if he _were_ , he wouldn't have minded much. He loved making it, loved listening to it. It was the most precious part of him. And even though _bartender track_ was just a simple two-minute mixture of soft beats and melodies, showing it to Minho was like showing the rawest side of him.

Maybe it wouldn't have been a big deal to someone else, but for someone who'd spent months and months longing for one person, it was...

It had him trembling under the hot spray of water, both in terror and relief.

He lazily tied a towel around his waist, planning to throw on some clothes before he went to face Minho, but the moment he opened the door to step out he was practically knocked to the ground, lips crashing into his and arms winding around his neck.

He gasped against Minho's mouth, stumbling back but eagerly pressing back into the kiss. His eyes fluttered shut, hands finding Minho’s waist by memory while the elder pulled him as close as possible and moved their lips together so insistently, it was hard to breathe.

Well, it seemed like he'd enjoyed _bartender track_.

Unless this was a goodbye kiss, and Minho was about to tell him _bartender track_ sucked and he wanted to go home.

He pulled away just to be sure, cupping Minho's face with a hand to hold him back when he tried to chase Jisung's lips. "You liked it?"

Minho narrowed his eyes, but his face _glowed_.

"That's a stupid fucking question," he whispered. Jisung beamed, heart throbbing at the enthusiastic—though roughly worded—response, and then Minho's lips were back on his, and his hands were roughly pulling at his hair, and one of his legs was lifting to hook around his waist, wordlessly asking to be picked up.

"Hang on," Jisung rushed, eyes widening in fear when he felt the towel on his waist start to loosen. "Let me put on something before this towel falls off."

Minho looked down where the towel had started to slip, but Jisung grabbed his chin in a panic and forced his head back up.

"Wait here," he said firmly. Minho tried to nod, but Jisung's grip on his chin was too tight. Jisung snickered at the way his eyes widened, then leaned forward to kiss under one of his red ears. "Let me get some pants."

"You don't need them," Minho croaked as he walked away. Jisung ignored him with a weary sigh, ridding himself of the towel and yanking on boxers and sweatpants as speedily as he could.

He didn’t bother with a shirt; he had thoroughly enjoyed the way Minho's eyes raked down his torso the other day after the elder spent the night for the first time, so he figured it couldn't hurt to do without one.

"Hi," Minho whispered once Jisung allowed him into his room, suddenly timid in contrast to how he acted when he leapt at the younger just minutes ago.

Jisung jumped on the bed without bothering to pull down the covers; neither of them would be able to fall asleep soon, anyway. He shifted over to make room for Minho, but the elder ended up draping over him anyway, arms looped around his neck and leg thrown over his waist. Jisung breathed deeply through his nose, hands gently connecting behind Minho's back.

"I loved it," Minho said after a few seconds. "When did you make it?"

"Oh, um." Jisung could feel his face warming up already. "Like... a few months ago."

" _Months?"_

"Yeah, when, uh, the night—the first night we texted."

He felt Minho stiffen in his grip.

"That was forever ago," Minho breathed. "Wow."

Jisung coughed out an embarrassed laugh. "I know. It's kind of ridiculous, honestly." His voice quieted while his fingers played with the fabric of Minho's shirt— _his_ shirt. "How long I've... you know."

"No, it's not," Minho murmured, rubbing his cheek against Jisung's bare chest. "I mean, it's—it’s been there for a while for me, too. Probably before I even realized." He shifted his head so he could look up into Jisung's eyes. "I just never thought anyone would like me enough to make a song about me."

"Well," Jisung whispered, breath catching in his throat at how close and how _ethereal_ Minho was. He would never get used to it. No matter how many times he saw him like this—and he hoped it was _plenty_ —he would never be able to breathe properly. "I never thought I'd like anyone enough to make a song about them."

Minho's eyes shined so prettily, Jisung had to kiss him before the sight devoured his brain; he was looking at him like he saw right through him, knew everything about him.

He didn't. Minho didn't know everything about him—Hell, he didn't know _half_ of it. But Jisung wanted him to. For once, for the first time ever, he truly, genuinely wanted to move over and make room for someone else.

"God," he whispered, heart thumping so intensely he wondered if Minho could feel it. He pulled away and pressed a kiss to Minho's forehead, then broke eye contact so he could collect himself. "I wanna tell you about something. Well, _need_ to, more like."

"You don't _need_ to tell me anything."

"No, I—" Jisung exhaled, one hand carding through Minho's hair in an attempt to calm himself down. "I have to... get this off my chest. Even though I'd rather not."

Minho kissed his collarbone, arms hugging him more securely. "What is it?"

Jisung spent several seconds just staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to reopen an almost healed wound, much less in front of Minho. However, the wound had only healed so much _because_ of Minho.

It was time to let him heal the rest. It was time for Jisung to fall back, push away his defensiveness and admit that _he_ needed saving just as much as the elder did.

He could only hope that Minho was willing to catch his fall.

"My first relationship was five years,” he finally spoke, voice hushed and fingers nervously stroking across Minho’s scalp. He waited for the elder to whisper _Wow_ before he continued. "And it was my last relationship, technically. I mean, I hooked up with people a lot—an awful lot, up until recently, cause it really didn't help at all, and I started, well. _You_ happened."

Minho smiled against his skin but stayed silent.

“Anyway, it ended last summer. Like... a month before the fall semester. Honestly, for a few weeks I considered withdrawing because I wasn't sure if I could even leave the apartment." He laughed sadly.

“What happened?” Minho mumbled, leaving a kiss on his chest.

"He cheated on me."

Minho jolted in his arms. " _Seriously?”_

"Yeah, he..." Jisung groaned. He really, _really_ hated talking about this. But to be honest, he hadn't actually talked to _anyone_ about it. Even his conversations with Chan were brought to an abrupt end because he hated to so much as _think_ about it.

"I'm really sorry," Minho whispered, and he sounded so genuinely upset that Jisung couldn't help but lean down and give him a brief kiss.

"It's okay. I mean, I'm way fucking over him, now. But it was fucked up, I guess."

"You _guess?"_ Minho cried. "I'm sorry. Nobody should be put through that." He kissed the underside of Jisung's jaw. "Is this... what everyone...?"

"Yeah." Jisung pet his hair some more. "Chan was there when it happened because he lived with us." Minho hummed in understanding. "...And Hyunjin was the guy he cheated on me with."

Minho flew into a sitting position, bumping his head on Jisung's jaw in the process.

" _Ow!"_

"Sorry," Minho rushed, rubbing at the spot he'd hit. "But—But—You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was." Jisung squeezed his eyes shut. "Would've saved us from a shitton of awkwardness."

" _Hyunjin?"_

"Hyunjin," Jisung confirmed.

"But, you..." Minho's hands were cupping his face, and his eyes were wider than Jisung had ever seen them, face painted with shock. "How can you just... _see_ him every day?"

Jisung shrugged, smiling in spite of the topic. "It was weird at first. But it wasn't his fault; he didn't know my ex was with someone."

" _Still_ ," Minho whined, hands flying up to cover his face. He rubbed his forehead in distress. 

Jisung was already beginning to feel bad for telling him. "It's okay," he murmured, pulling Minho's hands down to hold them. "I didn't tell you because, well, part of it was because I... hate opening up about it. But mostly because I didn't wanna worry you, not when you have your own shit going on—"

Minho punched him in the chest.

" _Ow!"_ Jisung cried again. "The fuck?"

"That's a terrible excuse!" Minho looked close to tears, and Jisung didn't know whether to fawn over him or tear up, as well. "You—" He moved to curl up on Jisung's chest again. "Not everything is about _me_ , you know? What if I wanna be there for you, too?"

The simple words made Jisung's throat tighten.

Of course, they were the exact ones he needed to hear—but he’d never anticipated how hard they would hit.

"You already are," he replied, fingers running down Minho's back. "I'm not sure what I would've done if I hadn't met you." He stopped moving his hands for a second. "Sorry. That's a lot."

"I'm a terrible person," Minho groaned into his chest. "I'm so _mean_ to you."

Jisung burst into laughter. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I always make fun of your pick-up lines, but—"

"But that's _okay_." Jisung laughed harder and rolled them so they were lying on their sides and Minho's face was no longer hidden. He kissed his nose. "I like everything you do. You make me _happy_."

Minho bit his lip, eyes shining with tears before his soft expression faded into horror.

"Wait—" he whispered. " _Fuck!"_ He dove down to bury his face in Jisung's neck.

"What?" Jisung asked in alarm.

"I kept—I kept accusing you of _cheating on me with_ _Hyunjin_ ," Minho whined, kicking his feet like an angry child. "God, that's so _twisted!"_

"Oh, right." Jisung laughed again. "That was kind of funny, not gonna lie."

"It's not funny!"

"Look at me," Jisung murmured, taking Minho's face in his hands once their eyes met again. "I didn't wanna make you feel bad, so I spent all week putting this off. Well, all year, technically. It's not fair that I've been all involved in you and your crappy ex, when I haven't told you shit about mine."

"It's not the same thing," Minho mumbled. "My crappy ex didn't cheat—"

"Quiet." Jisung squeezed his cheeks. "It wasn't fair. We weren't _even_. But now we are, or at least someday, we'll be." He stroked under Minho's glassy eyes with his thumbs. "I don't want you to worry about me."

"This isn't about _me_ ," Minho whined. "It's about you."

"I know," Jisung said, finally able to accept the fact after days of _two-way_ street lectures. "It is about me, but it's about both of us, now." He kissed Minho's forehead. "Because I'm okay now, and even though I was fucked up for a while, someone saved me from that mess without knowing it."

"Am I that someone?" Minho asked softly.

Jisung scoffed, pressing their foreheads together. " _No_ , Minho, it was Hyunjin."

"Not funny," Minho grumbled, but the pout on his lips was soon wiped away by Jisung's own lips as he leaned in again with no intentions of pulling back.

He had done his best, used all the words he could, and now all he could do was hope he could make up for the rest in kisses and time.

If that was what Minho wanted.

"Is this okay?" he pulled away to whisper. Minho nodded quickly. "So no more of that _I don't wanna drag you into this_ edging?"

"Don't be mean." Minho playfully shoved him back again but instantly straddled his torso so he could kiss him better. "I give up." He kissed Jisung's cheek. "As long as _you're_ okay with giving up. You're involved in my bullshit; I'm involved in yours. We're even now, right?"

"Even," Jisung replied, and he meant it this time. He grabbed Minho's waist and slid his hands under his shirt when the elder dipped down to kiss him again, heart racing when he realized there was _actually_ nothing to stop them this time, not even a hangover.

Minho surprised him by rolling onto his back and bringing Jisung with him, legs wrapping around the younger’s waist to pull him down. Jisung inhaled sharply against his mouth but quickly adjusted to the position, one hand next to Minho's face and the other gripping one of his thighs.

His brain short-circuited the moment their hips aligned. Minho was holding him so impossibly _close_ , and his mouth was moving so _intensely_ on his, Jisung wasn't sure he'd last a single second if any more clothes came off.

When he pulled away for air and took in Minho's flushed face and swollen lips, he caught sight of his freshly marked neck from the morning—which felt incredibly distant now.

"Shit," he whispered, pupils dilating and hand leaving Minho's thigh to trace along some of the spots. God, was he a fucking _animal?_ "Look at you."

Minho’s eyes crinkled cutely. "Do I look pretty?"

" _Very_ pretty," Jisung said with a breathy laugh, dipping down to kiss over the marks and latch onto a bare patch of skin below his shoulder. Minho gasped quietly, squirming below Jisung and burying his fingers in his hair.

"Jisung," he breathed, back arching as Jisung gently sucked at the spot. "Hang on."

Jisung immediately pulled back, once again petrified that he had read things wrong. But Minho only flashed him a mischievous smile and reached for the hem of his—technically _Jisung's_ —shirt and tugged it over his head.

"There. _Now_ we're even," he said, breath hitching when the younger’s fingers subconsciously traced his torso.

"We sure are,” Jisung murmured with a grin, unable to tear his eyes away from Minho's body. He wanted to kiss every part of it, mark up every bare inch of it.

He couldn't do that, but he _could_ dip down and lick over one of Minho's nipples, eyes flitting up to the elder's to catch the way his mouth fell open with a soft sigh. Jisung started to suck, then, propping himself up on an elbow while his free hand trailed over the other side of Minho’s chest, spurred on by his reaction.

"God," Minho breathed, hips twitching when the younger slid down his body and kissed across his stomach more, nipping in random spots just to draw out whimpers. He was sucking a mark onto Minho's ribcage when the elder squirmed again, his crotch pressed up against Jisung's stomach now. Jisung went rigid. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it almost felt like Minho was— "Shut up. Don’t say anything."

Jisung muffled a laugh against Minho's skin, pressing a kiss to the mark he'd just made. Yeah, there was definitely something happening in his pants.

"Stop laughing," Minho whined. "Come back here."

Jisung bit his lip and crawled back up to meet Minho's lips, hands resting on either side of his face while the elder's wrapped around his torso, fingers digging into his back. Jisung kissed him deep and slow, taking his time because it seemed like they had plenty now—firstly, because they were running on caffeine; secondly, because the strings pulling them away from each other had finally been cut.

Minho, however, was seemingly low on patience. His body arched up against Jisung's, hips shifting subtly enough that it could've been accidental, but Jisung had a feeling it wasn't.

"I have something to say," Minho mumbled against his mouth, and though the words normally would’ve terrified Jisung, the elder didn't let up his kisses, so it couldn't have been anything _too_ bad.

He reluctantly pulled away to lock their eyes. "What is it?"

Minho chewed on his lower lip, nails gently scratching along Jisung's back.

"My head is feeling better."

Jisung squinted. "Huh?"

Minho flushed, then groaned quietly in frustration. "I said my _head_ is feeling _better_."

His head was feeling better? Jisung blinked a few times. Was he stupid or something? He wasn't necessarily sure what Minho's hangover headache had to do with— _Oh_.

They had—Minho had stopped them from going too far earlier. Because his _head_ had been hurting.

"Oh," Jisung whispered, feeling somewhere between cocky, aroused, and flustered. "Is that so?"

"It is." Minho giggled, thumbs rubbing at Jisung's back like he was nervous or something. "So are you gonna finally suck my dick, or...?"

Jisung's lips parted in shock, the feelings of cockiness, arousal, and fluster intensifying tenfold. "Jesus, Minho."

"I'm kiddi—"

"Can I?"

Jisung’s eyes widened, as did Minho’s.

"I mean—" Jisung started.

"Yes," Minho whispered.

They stared, then burst into laughter.

"Okay, let me try that again," Jisung murmured, kissing the flushed parts of Minho's cheeks before trailing his lips down his chest again.

"Wait, wait," Minho tugged at his hair before he could get too far. "I wasn't kidding. But..." He paused. "I want you to feel good, too."

Jisung halted his movements.

"Meaning?" he whispered.

Minho scowled. "You're gonna make me _say_ it?"

Before Jisung could respond with something along the lines of _Yes_ , Minho sat up and shoved him back into a sitting position, crawling onto his lap.

"Kiss me before I get too embarrassed," the elder mumbled, and Jisung obliged with a quiet laugh. His hands ran along Minho’s bare waist as he kissed him hard, pulling their bodies close while Minho started to move his hips.

 _Minho started to move his hips_ , and the earth stopped spinning. He let out a soft moan into Jisung’s mouth, and the earth fell off its axis.

"Fuck," Jisung whispered, pulling Minho's lip gently between his teeth while he grinded up. He flopped down onto his back without warning, making Minho cry out in surprise then moan again, seeing they were able to rock their hips together more easily.

"Does this feel good?" Minho asked, planting his hands on the bed so he could move against Jisung. His face pulled back to search the younger's eyes as if he had no idea that Jisung was internally _losing his fucking shit_.

"Yes, Minho," he huffed, hands going to grab Minho's ass and shift him so he was straddling one of Jisung's thighs. "Feels good, baby."

Minho whined under his breath; whether it was due to the petname or the renewed friction, Jisung didn’t know. The elder clutched at the sheets while they rutted against each other, lips still meeting but more or less brushing against each other as they let out stuttered breaths.

"You drive me nuts," Jisung moaned, grabbing Minho's hips to hold up still and rolling his own hips up. Minho instantly buried his face in his neck and bit down to stifle a whine, which only made Jisung's hips buck up again.

Suddenly, the elder moved so he was sitting up on his knees, hands flying down to Jisung's waistband. "Pants," he said, tugging at the material but meeting Jisung's eyes, seemingly waiting for the go-ahead.

"Knock yourself out," Jisung choked out, and Minho blushed, lower lip between his teeth as he practically yanked the sweatpants down, Jisung doing his best to help by squirming out of them. He gently moved Minho to the side so he could slide out of them completely, body heating up even more when he caught Minho's eyes fixated on his boxers.

It wasn't the first time Minho had seen him without pants—they had literally cuddled the night before with Jisung in nothing but boxers and made out like that in the morning.

But this was slightly more nerve-wracking, considering the blatantly visible bulge and all.

"Can I touch you?" Minho asked. Jisung inhaled sharply but gave him a quick nod, yelping quietly when Minho pushed him to his back again.

They were all over the place, lunging at each other like they’d never touched someone in their lives. Jisung wouldn’t want it any other way.

He arched up with a groan when Minho rubbed his palm over his boxers, small fingers wrapping around his cock through the material.

"Fuck, hell, shit," Jisung said ineloquently, but the words he meant to say were _Your hand feels like heaven, and this is the most turned on I've been in ages_.

Minho snorted at the words, watching with intrigued eyes as Jisung grinded up against his hand. "Been a while?"

"Sadly," Jisung responded. "Well, not _too_ long." He grimaced as he remembered all the unsatisfactory hook-ups he'd had over the months. "But... fuck." He laughed quietly, embarrassed. "This is the best I've felt in fucking ages, and we've hardly done anything yet."

"Me too," Minho said with a soft smile, straddling Jisung's thigh and rutting against it while he continued touching the younger through his boxers. Jisung smiled at the obvious strain in Minho's sweatpants—which were actually his _own_ and not the ones Jisung had lent him in the morning.

He reached over to grab the waistband. "Yours, too," he said. "Gotta stay even and all."

"Okay, but I should let you know that there's nothing under them."

"Oh," Jisung breathed, hands tracing along the bare skin of Minho's stomach, stalling out of fear that he’d black out the second he saw Minho's cock.

"...Is that okay?" Minho asked, eyes widening.

"Yes," Jisung assured quickly. "I'm just trying to figure out how I'll stop myself from combusting the second I see your pretty cock."

" _Jisung_ ," Minho whined, using the hand that wasn't rubbing over Jisung's bulge to cover his face. "I fucking knew you'd say shit like that in bed."

“Oh, did you, now?” Jisung’s face broke out into a grin. “What else did you picture me saying?”

"Shut up," Minho whispered into his hand.

Jisung gently pushed the elder off his thigh and moved him onto his back. "I have a question. You put my shirt back on but not the sweatpants. Wh—"

"No reason," Minho cut him off before he could even ask.

Jisung sat back, eyebrows raised at the shady response.

"I said _no reason_ ," Minho hissed, and his face was red as a goddamn _firetruck_ , but before Jisung's mind could run wild, the elder was yanking him down and roughly connecting their mouths again.

He pushed his interrogation to the side (for the time being) and focused on memorizing every part of Minho's mouth instead, breathing in his whines as he rocked their hips together a few more times. Slowly, taking his time for the sake of his own sanity, he reached down and began to untie the elder’s sweatpants.

"I expect you to explain yourself later," he whispered in Minho's ear, laughing under his breath when the elder shuddered. He kissed his way down his torso, stopping right above his waistband with a deep breath. "It's time."

Minho threw an arm over his face, letting out an exasperated groan. "Why do you have to say it like that?"

"I've waited _months_ for this," Jisung argued, then instantly averted his eyes when Minho moved his arm away to give him an amused look. "I didn't say that."

"Hope I live up to all your wet dreams or whatever," Minho teased, then lifted his hips with a shaky breath as Jisung pulled the waistband down and slid the sweatpants down his thighs, mouth going dry the moment he saw Minho's cock slap against his stomach, prettier than he could've imagined and already leaking.

"Oh, you _exceed_ my wet dreams," he breathed, reaching forward but stopping right before he could touch. Minho's body shook, eyes growing darker by the minute. "Can I?"

"Well, no _shit_ ," Minho whined, immediately shielding his eyes again, clearly flustered. Jisung wanted to rile him up further but didn't hesitate to touch him this time, fingers running along the length of his cock and spreading down the wetness that had already formed. Minho choked back a noise, hands clutching the sheets.

"So cute," Jisung murmured, properly wrapping his fingers around Minho’s cock and watching him clamp down on his lip as he started to give experimental strokes. "Hold up." He removed his hand despite Minho’s protesting groan, leaving the bed to go through his nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube that he definitely didn't use on a daily basis.

Minho watched him like a hawk as he kneeled back on the bed and drizzled the lube over his fingers, then moaned out when Jisung gripped his cock again and moved his hand with ease.

"That's not gonna taste very good," he choked out between whimpers, then froze as if he hadn't meant to say the words out loud. "I mean, if you—"

"I'll still be sucking you off, don't worry," Jisung said with a teasing smile. "Lucky for you, I accidentally bought it lemon flavored."

Minho made a face. "Who the fuck accidentally buys lemon flavored lube?"

"It looked like the regular label!" Jisung defended, then gave Minho a cheesy wink. "Maybe it was fate."

Before Minho could make fun of him any more, he spread the elder's legs and moved between them to mouth at his cock.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," Minho swore the moment Jisung's lips wrapped around him. Jisung let out a muffled laugh at the reaction, which led Minho to gasp out and thrust up into his mouth. He glanced down at Jisung with apologetic eyes, but the younger only took him in deeper, more than prepared to show off after months and months and _months_ of blowjob references.

He was _not_ all bark.

"Fuck, how does this feel so good?" Minho cried, threading his fingers through Jisung's hair when the younger started sucking hard. " _Stop_ , I'm gonna come in ten seconds and then I'll have to go into hiding— _Hey!_ " Minho shot him a deadly glare when he pulled off, which only made Jisung grin. "N-No, I didn't mean that _literally_.”

"Should watch your mouth, then," Jisung said, and the way Minho brokenly whined spurred him on _way_ more than it should've. He parted Minho's thighs more and pressed teasing kisses along them, drinking in his soft sighs and smiling when the elder impatiently squirmed around.

He was _not_ expecting Minho to cry so loudly when he latched onto his inner thigh and started to softly suck.

" _Jisung_ ," the elder whined, hips jolting, and Jisung blinked up at him with wide eyes before returning with newfound determination, nipping down in another spot, then sucking hard in another. "Jisung, please, _please_."

Jisung felt electricity run down his spine at the words. 

Before he knew it, he was crawling up to cup Minho’s face hard and bring their lips together in a messy kiss. Minho rutted up against his boxers and cried out softly, then pulled back to mumble, "You taste like fucking lemons."

"Oh, really?" Jisung giggled, then leaned in again and slipped his tongue into Minho’s mouth. The elder groaned but kissed back harder, arms looping around Jisung's waist and pulling him down so he could grind up against his thigh. " _Hey_." Jisung moved to his knees, stripping them both of any sort of friction. "No cheating."

"Wha—Since when were there rules?" Minho whined.

Jisung rolled his eyes as he moved back down, kissing across Minho's stomach but specifically avoiding his cock. "You sure do whine a lot," he said while taking Minho back into his hand. "...I love it."

"Of course you do," Minho muttered, but his attitude quickly dissolved when Jisung sucked him back into his mouth and sunk down all the way, hands flat on Minho's hips to keep them against the bed. "Oh my god." Minho moaned high in his throat, fingers reaching down and scratching at Jisung's shoulders.

The younger let out soft hums around him and sped up as best as he could; he hadn't had a dick in his mouth for a hot second, but he was absolutely set on making Minho fall apart. He let his eyes flutter shut and moaned as he sucked harder, completely blissed out just from having his mouth full.

Despite how badly he’d wanted it to, he never really believed this day would come. The thought made him slowly pull off, a sudden need to make sure this was _actually happening_ washing over him.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Minho's hips thrusted up hopelessly. "Why are you trying to edge me?"

"You practically asked for it the first time,” Jisung pointed out, withholding a smirk. "And what did I say about watching your mouth, huh?" Minho fell quiet, hips jolting at their own accord, it seemed. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask if this is, like... okay."

"Is it _okay?"_ Minho asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Like," Jisung huffed, "are you okay with us doing all this suddenly?"

"I..." Minho squirmed around more, then flushed when Jisung held him still. "I mean, I think we both deserve it, don't you?"

Jisung couldn't help but remember how Minho had said _I don't deserve it_ when they started to fool around in the morning, and the fact that his mindset had changed—possibly because of Jisung—made his heart unexpectedly warm.

"I think so, too." Jisung rubbed his thumb into Minho's hipbone. "I just wanted to make sure this wasn't, like, too much too fast."

Minho shook his head, staring at Jisung for a moment before a cryptic glint passed over his irises.

"I have a secret," he whispered. Jisung squinted at him, confused, but crawled up again when the elder beckoned him.

"What is it?" he asked, cupping Minho's face with one hand.

"I wanna ride you."

If the earth had fallen off its axis earlier, it was now tumbling through space. Jisung could _feel_ it.

His visible reaction to the words must've been borderline terrifying, because Minho’s eyes grew impossibly large, face drawing away from Jisung’s touch.

"Was that too much?" he rushed out, but Jisung immediately dove in to kiss the worry from his features and press their lips together hard.

"No, I just— _Fuck_." Jisung held his face in both hands and moved their lips together for a few seconds while he tried to recall how to formulate words. "I think I'm gonna pass out."

Minho laughed against his mouth. "Not until I'm done with you," he said, and _yeah_ , Jisung really _was_ going to pass out.

"Fuck," he swore, heart racing a million miles an hour. "Okay, fuck. Condom… _Shit_.”

“Let me guess.” Minho raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have condoms.”

“Probably not, fuck. Let me check—”

“No need,” Minho murmured, reaching for his discarded sweatpants and searching through one of the pockets.

“Wha—?” Jisung yelped, eyes bulging. There was a condom. Minho had brought a condom to Jisung’s apartment. “You—You came here to _seduce_ me?”

Minho burst into giggles, but his ears reddened at the accusation. “ _No_ , I didn’t know this would happen; I just wanted to be safe. I mean, you were pretty much ready to stick your dick in me when I was here this morning—”

“ _You’re_ the one that started grinding on me!”

“Shut _up_ ,” Minho cried. “I just wanted to be prepared for the worst-case scenario, okay?”

“ _Worst-case?”_

Minho let out another giggle, then crawled back over to wrap his arms around Jisung’s neck and pull him down for a deep kiss, condom packet thrown to the side. Jisung huffed against his mouth as he guided the elder onto his back again.

“I’m just kidding,” Minho mumbled against his mouth, keeping their lips connected for a few more seconds. “Please stick your dick in me.”

“Oh?” Jisung kissed down his neck and then pulled away to sit back on his knees, trying to hide the way his world was flipped upside down by the three words. “So you’re gonna beg?”

Minho threw him an unimpressed look. “ _Jisung_.”

“Okay, okay.” The younger held back a smile and reached for the bottle of lube. “Can I, uh...?"

Minho eagerly nodded, something close to a smirk tugging at his lips. "Kind of funny how you'll talk big one second, then turn into an awkward baby the next."

Jisung's face flushed—Minho was right, but still, Jisung couldn't let him go on _knowing_ he was right.

"How about you try saying that again when I'm making you scream?" he murmured, concealing a smile when Minho gasped sharply and turned his head away to avoid his gaze.

" _Fucking hell_ ," the elder whispered, hips stuttering again and eyes narrowing when Jisung let out a quiet laugh. "Fine, I take it back."

“Thought so,” Jisung hummed as he finished coating his fingers in lube. He scooted between Minho’s parted legs, trying to decide the best way to go about things, when the elder wordlessly sat up and rolled over so he was propped on his elbows, ass raised.

"Oh," Jisung breathed. "Good."

Minho laughed, mumbling _Awkward baby_ under his breath, but Jisung quickly cut off that statement by gripping his ass hard and making his breath catch in his throat. He smiled, fingers cautiously rubbing up against Minho’s hole.

"Too bad I can't suck you off while I finger you now," he murmured while he slowly slid in one finger, his free hand soothingly rubbing at one of Minho's thighs.

Minho huffed. "Thank god you can't. I wouldn't have made it one minute."

Jisung grinned at the confession, then smoothly snaked his arm under Minho's torso to wrap his fingers around his cock and start jerking him off while pushing in his finger the rest of the way. "At least I can do _this_."

"Jisung, I swear to _fuck_ —" Minho gritted out, hips bucking, then again when Jisung started thrusting his finger in time with the strokes of his hand.

"Tell me to stop."

Minho said nothing.

"Good boy," Jisung said, pressing a kiss to Minho's back and laughing when a shiver passed down his spine.

"You're unbearable," Minho muttered under his breath. "Also, add another."

"Already?" Jisung asked, hesitantly pulling out the first finger so he could slip in two.

"Mhm. I do this, like, every day," Minho said as if it were casual small-talk. "I jerk off super loud to piss off you-know-who."

"Oh my god." Jisung pressed another kiss to his back to muffle a laugh, now moving his fingers steadily and his hand faster, encouraged by the quiet whines escaping Minho's lips.

"We should've—" Minho moaned quietly, cutting himself off. "Should've had phone sex or something. That'd get him."

"Fucking _hell_ ," Jisung breathed against his skin.

"Maybe tomorrow, before he moves— _Ah!"_

Jisung accidentally cut him off mid-sentence, likely due to his fingers inching closer to Minho's prostate.

"What were you saying?" he joked.

"Shut _up_ , more, please," Minho whined, body shaking.

"What's the magic word?"

"Wha—I already _said_ the magic word, asshole—" Minho hissed but silenced himself when Jisung slid in a third finger. " _Jisungie_."

Jisung felt himself leak out into his boxers as he took his time fingering Minho, hand still moving on the elder’s cock, drawing out sensitive whimpers. Soon, he started to speed up, angling his fingers further up until Minho bit his lip to stifle a high-pitched moan.

"Pretty," he commented, pressing against that spot again and again and jerking Minho's cock just as fast.

Minho choked out his name again, back arching and face falling onto the mattress to stifle more noises.

"Feel good?" he asked, knowing damn well Minho was too flustered to answer. He thrusted his fingers hard, stroked his hand harder, and the loud cries Minho was burying in his sheets were the sweetest melodies he’d ever heard. Fuck _bartender track_ ; this was what real music sounded like.

He waited until Minho's entire body was tensing up, a strangled moan escaping his lips, to remove his fingers and take his hand off his cock.

Minho nearly _screamed_ into the mattress. He lifted his head with a frustrated cry, rolling over to his back and shooting daggers at Jisung. "What the hell?"

"What?" Jisung beamed down at him.

"I—I was gonna—" He reached down for his cock but Jisung was quick to grab his wrist and pin it next to his head. " _Jisung_. I was so fucking _close_." When Jisung failed to hold back a laugh, he narrowed his eyes further. " _Fuck_ you."

“Fuck _me?_ ” Jisung cracked up at his own joke. “I thought you wanted to ride me.”

Minho averted his eyes. "Well, I _do_ want that..." He whispered something under his breath.

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Want you to fuck me," he breathed, cheeks a concerning shade of red. Jisung’s stared at him for a moment, not understanding, and then his throat went dry.

" _Oh_." He smiled and took Minho's face in his hands. "You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Is that it?"

Minho bit his lip. "Perhaps."

" _Perhaps?"_ Jisung laughed, bending down to give him a short kiss. "Okay, how about you sit on my dick like you said, and then I'll fuck your brains out."

Minho shivered at the words but nodded, hands curling around Jisung's neck as their lips met again.

"Yeah?" Jisung mumbled. "What's the magic word?"

" _Again?"_ Minho whined, but when Jisung refused to move an inch, he mumbled a quiet _Please_ that made the younger’s cock leak out even more.

"Good boy."

"Oh, fuck off," Minho cried, giving him a soft push and reaching for the bottle of lube. "Take off your boxers."

Jisung was surprised by the sudden dominance but happily complied—his dick was close to tearing open the material at this point, anyway.

"Do you like it when I call you that?" he teased, still determined to rile Minho up even if he _was_ taking the lead.

"Shut up," Minho whispered, then paused, eyes widening when he realized Jisung's boxers were discarded. "Holy _fuck_."

"What?" Jisung asked with a grin, but his ego was already through the roof without Minho saying a word.

"Don't smirk at me like that," Minho huffed, but his eyes were still wide as he reached forward and stroked Jisung with his lube covered hand, making the younger moan softly. "Fucking hell. You're bigger than my tenta—" He stopped mid-sentence, then sped up his movements on Jisung's cock distractingly.

"Your—Your _what?"_

"I didn't say anything," Minho replied curtly, turning away to rip open the condom packet and hand it over to Jisung, swallowing loud and watching him roll it on.

"You have a lot of secrets to share later," Jisung muttered as he grabbed the lube and poured it over himself, but the teasing edge to his voice was quickly replaced by utter desperation. Minho was shuffling forward to straddle Jisung’s lap, right above his cock, so fucking close, and—

He threw his head back the moment Minho lined himself up.

"Shit, fuck," he groaned, hands holding Minho's thighs securely while the elder guided himself down on Jisung’s cock. "Oh my fucking god."

"For someone who's supposedly had a million hook-ups, you're pretty sensitive," Minho tried to laugh, but his head was tipping back as well once he settled down all the way, a needy whine falling from his lips and lighting a fire in Jisung's core.

"Don't—Don't compare yourself to my shitty hook-ups," Jisung gritted out. "I'm gonna pass out."

"Not _yet_ ," Minho whined, wrapping his arms around Jisung's neck and pressing his face against it as he started to swivel his hips experimentally. " _Oh_."

"Fuck." Jisung’s hands gently caressed Minho's thighs, his hips thrusting up slightly.

Minho cried into his neck, then pulled away with a deep breath and sat up on his knees to start moving. " _God_."

"I can't—I can't believe you're actually sitting on my dick right now," Jisung said. Minho scoffed at the comment, but his hands were gripping the back of Jisung’s hair tightly, and his thighs were trembling as he moved.

"I can't believe your dick is this big," Minho retorted, whining and biting down on Jisung's collarbone as he grinded down on his cock. "I mean, I figured it was _big_ , but bigger than..."

"Your tentacle dildo?" Jisung supplied with a quiet moan.

"I never even said that," Minho hurriedly dismissed. "Stop talking."

For once, Jisung listened and directed his efforts toward rocking his hips upward as best as he could while trying not to black out from pleasure.

Minho was sitting in his lap, and he was so fucking tight for someone who supposedly fucked himself every day, and Jisung liked him so, so, _so_ —

"I like you so much," he blurted, grabbing Minho's face and bringing their lips together in a sloppy kiss. He tilted his head and whimpered into Minho's mouth as they kept moving their hips. "Like, _so_ much."

"I'd hope so," Minho said, pulling back and smiling amusedly at Jisung. "I'd hate to be another one of your _shitty hook-ups_."

" _Fuck_ , no," Jisung cried, kissing Minho again, hard. "You're everything. Everything in the world."

Minho's eyes glimmered, and then suddenly Jisung was flat on his back, Minho's fingers intertwining with his as he rose to his knees and sank down.

" _Oh_ ," Jisung choked out, and the view was _indescribable_. Minho was flushed everywhere, body dotted with pretty marks, lips red and cheeks redder, eyes glistening as he started to fuck himself down on Jisung hard, whines growing louder each time he moved. "Pretty baby."

Minho let out the sweetest moan, head tossed back, jaw slack. Jisung suddenly wanted to pin him down and fuck him breathless.

"Are you tired yet?" he asked, and Minho slowed to a stop, chest heaving.

"Not really, but I kind of want you to..."

"...Fuck you into the mattress?" Jisung finished with a grin. Minho gave him a non-threatening glare but gasped out a moan when Jisung sat up without hesitation and carefully rolled them over so _Minho_ was on his back. "Good?"

Minho gave him a hasty nod, legs wrapping around Jisung’s waist and lower lip between his teeth. "Please?"

Jisung groaned and moved onto his knees, holding Minho's hands against the bed for stability. "This okay?" He gave the elder's hands, which were on either side of his face, a comforting squeeze.

"More than okay," Minho whispered, so Jisung wasted no time in pulling out and snapping his hips against his ass.

The beautiful cry the elder let out nearly destroyed him on the spot. He stuffed his face into his neck and pounded into him, not holding back in the slightest. Every noise that left Minho’s throat sent him closer and closer to cloud nine.

He hadn't fucked anyone like this in a long time, hadn't felt this blissed out in his entire life.

"You're so perfect," he moaned into Minho's skin, their fingers intertwining. "I like you so much it's insane."

"Me... too," Minho choked out between cries. He sounded so _pretty_ , and Jisung figured he looked even prettier, so he forced himself to pull away from Minho's neck and prop himself on his elbows to see him better.

"You’re fucking gorgeous," he murmured, more to himself than to Minho, but the words must've affected the elder a decent amount because he suddenly rolled his hips up in response, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open with another sweet moan. Jisung’s breath hitched. "My pretty boy."

" _Jisung_ ," Minho whined, sounding close to tears as Jisung fucked into him harder, causing the entire bed to noisily shake. For a split second, Jisung worried that his neighbors would be disrupted, but he quickly realized that he didn't give a fuck.

Not when Minho was spread out below him _beautifully_ , taking him like he was meant to. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and Jisung was about to ask why this had taken so long to happen, but he immediately stopped himself.

Being buried inside Minho, feeling so impossibly _close_ to him, was so heavenly that it was worth waiting a thousand years for.

"You're so good," he murmured, unable to stop praising Minho despite the fact that he was more or less pliant against the mattress, leaving Jisung to do all the work.

"I'm already _close_ ," Minho whined, back arching again and heels digging into Jisung’s back, a single tear escaping his eye.

"Almost there," Jisung whispered, dizzy with arousal just _looking_ at Minho. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been close the second the elder sat in his lap earlier—no, he had been close before he’d even taken his boxers off.

"Please," Minho moaned, a few more tears staining his cheeks, eyes blinking open to gaze up at Jisung pleadingly. "Jisung, _please_."

Jisung was close to _losing his mind_. He dipped down and kissed Minho to silence him, unable to handle the sight of him with desperate, leaking eyes and skin glistening with sweat.

" _Jisungie_ ," he cried louder, body shaking below Jisung as the younger sped up his thrusts. "Please, please."

"You wanna come, baby?" he mumbled against Minho's lips, detaching their hands and properly holding himself up on his elbows. Minho instantly buried his fingers in his hair and yanked his head down for another kiss.

Minho's voice was quiet, needy. "Yes, please."

Fuck, who knew how _good_ Minho would be?

Jisung had known. He always had.

"That’s a good boy," he whispered against his lips, softly moaning as the sensation of fucking Minho harder into the sheets enveloped him. "You're so beautiful." He pecked Minho's lips and then pulled away. "Come on, baby, whenever you need to."

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," Minho nearly sobbed, head thrashing against the pillows and hands pulling at Jisung's hair so hard it brought him right to the edge as Minho came hard between them with a full-body shudder.

"You're so fucking— _God_ ," Jisung moaned, eyes fixed on Minho, almost tearing up himself as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts and came in the condom within seconds to the sound of Minho's sensitive cries.

He could feel the room spin as he slowed his hips, both of their mouths finding each other without a word. They exchanged languid kisses for several seconds, only parting for Jisung to slide out before they resumed, mouths needy against each other.

"You're unreal," Jisung whispered again. He reluctantly pulled back to wipe at the few tears that had coated Minho's cheeks and pet back his messy hair.

Minho half-heartedly scoffed. "You've already said that, and it's still _untrue_."

"No, it _is_ true," Jisung insisted, unable to tear his eyes away from Minho in his post-orgasm beauty. "I can't believe you—We—" He dipped down to kiss Minho again before he could say anything embarrassing. "Was that okay? Did it make up for two hundred bad pick-up lines?"

"I told you it was _five hundred_ ," Minho corrected with a lazy smile, arms moving to hug Jisung's waist and cuddle him close. "And it definitely did. But you still owe me for all the refills, so..."

"I guess I can arrange something," Jisung said, unable to hold back from beaming down at Minho. "So you want this to happen again... right?" He pulled back nervously and looked down to carefully take off the condom. "Hold that thought. Let me get rid of this shit and clean up."

"M'kay," Minho mumbled. "But kiss first."

Jisung didn’t know how much more _Minho_ his heart could take.

He kissed him softly, letting his mouth linger a bit longer than intended before he sent Minho a tender smile and headed off to the bathroom. He didn't let his brain latch onto a single thought while he was gone from Minho's presence, knowing he'd end up on the floor like usual, so he grabbed a washcloth and abruptly returned.

"I do want this to happen again," Minho said as soon as Jisung was back on the bed. "Don't you?"

" _Yes_ ," Jisung rushed. "Of course I do." He waited until Minho's stomach was clean to lie down and hug the elder to his chest. "I was just checking, cause I know you're dealing with everything..."

Minho smiled and kissed his cheek. "I mean, you're not wrong. I've been dealing with shit for a while." He grabbed one of Jisung's hands and intertwined their fingers. "...But you're kind of the reason I've been able to deal with it."

Jisung let out a soft breath at the words. "I'm so glad."

"And we've both been through some shit." Minho laughed quietly, his eyes fluttering shut, but he nuzzled into Jisung more. "Both of us." He sighed deeply. "To be honest, I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to... you know. After him and I broke up."

"I get it." Jisung smiled sadly and kissed the top of his head. “It was the same for me. It takes time.”

It wasn't surprising that Minho didn't want to date after what he'd been through. His heart wasn't ready, just as Jisung's hadn't been before he'd met—

"But I met someone," Minho continued, quietly, "who made me wanna try."

The earth abruptly stopped tumbling, freezing in mid-air.

"Oh?" he whispered, breath catching in his throat at the words. "Am I that someone?"

“Don’t steal my words, Han Jisung,” Minho grumbled. “Ruining the moment.”

“It’s only fair; you stole mine. _And_ my clothes,” Jisung said with a shit-eating grin. “Not to mention my heart.”

Minho’s jaw dropped. “God, you’re—I can’t _stand_ you.” Jisung burst into laughter as the elder shoved him and sat up to straddle his hips, both of their hands connecting despite the elder’s mock annoyance. Minho shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek with a pensive look in his eyes. “Do you mean it, though? When you say stuff like that?”

“I mean everything I say,” Jisung replied, suddenly solemn. “Especially what I said earlier. You’re the reason I got through… what I got through.” He looked away, embarrassed, but smiled softly when Minho squeezed their entwined fingers. “I spent a long time convincing myself that I never wanted to be with anyone again, but at some point, I wasn’t so sure anymore.”

“Why’s that?” 

Jisung forced himself to meet Minho’s eyes again, then pressed soft kisses to both his hands, an action that had become second nature to him in the span of just a few days. “Because maybe…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❝ ...You're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you're my **wonderwall**. ❞

**Author's Note:**

> I'm retiring
> 
> special thanks to my **betas slash emotional supports** : [dawnshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnshine/pseuds/dawnshine) and [softvoice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softvoice/pseuds/softvoice). thank you for going through this hell with me ♡
> 
> ★ nsfw twt: @[hanknowz](https://www.twitter.com/hanknowz)   
>  ★ sfw twt: @[leeknwoz](https://www.twitter.com/leeknwoz)   
>  ★ curiouscat: [hanknowz](https://curiouscat.qa/hanknowz)


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